curving parallel pearls
two strands
adorn her
arc down
bridge bare shoulders
orbs of gleam
globes in iridess
a string
sand smoothed silk
spheres joined
strung grains of circumstance
pale below grin and
deep cafe' eyes
farout films
in the seventies,
somewhere in there
amidst a blur that'd
an occasional clear cut lucidity shining;
there were some moments to share here.
after collecting 8mm and 16mm films
of all kinds and atrocities
as well as a few that were
strange and beautiful
the time came to help them transcend (and self as well).
parties led in and out of blurs
and collages of eyes, laughter and tears
as my marriage died like an anchor
chained to my neck and tossed overboard
dragging me to dark bottom.
I lashed out with waste and destruction of flickering toys.
the cans came out and films were draped and knotted.
celluloid togas and gowns we wore while
sharing pleasure in silly existential whims.
the sound of film thrashed through during sex still echoes.
panting and the swish of film
were farout white noise.
downhill slopes of 2012
mayans glimpsed a roll of rocky places
as gravity fell with added weight
and stone spun on
they'd bits of help from far-off friends
who'd brought stars and story
days of future horror on the way
strangers stepped from chariots of light
their visit lasted moons
left civilization scattered in readiness
tales of harvest to come where crop was richest
times when immense chariots would blot sky
cities empty into loading ramps on cattle planet earth
only ones too far
from teeming harvest points
would be left in mayan 2012
the meek and remote
would inherit it finally
like some other scripture said as well
