Sunday, November 15, 2009

Ever a Silo of Twelve Seconds

English was still major development
Spoken in broken cups of glass & steel marijuana

& thinking as straw was a silo of straw
Evolved through space of twelve seconds

No matter how strafed
A loot of legs and skirts and muscle and hair and eyes and breasts
Dr. Strangelove just screamed

In cinematic contrivances found loved by no pulpit
Surfing was a fad soon
The waters did doom upon atolls of radio waves

In watts they were whom not quite ourselves
A view’s pewter ball I rolled into sleeves

As sixth of a rumor we fell out of knees
A jingle in pain till old western dead

[Your Name Here] up in lights

[Your Name Here]
Acts out a movie
Votes in a theater
Saunters into &
Out of frames 1-
20,000 delegates
On camera / off
Screen justified
Citizens external
Ask your local
Party rep or just
Shoot the footage
I Us opting for
Corpse smells of
Aisle seats &
Public nonpareils
Improvised by
Cross dresser-
Prophet his own
Shadowy persona
Non gratis the
Situation appears
“legit” afterall
As does a bill
[not a duck’s
Beak] a George
[“Roll ‘em!”]
Is a form of late
20th Century
Diplomacy. [Film
Talks, yes?]
The means of
Cunning’s own
Historical re-
Enactment of
The lost art of
Cash acquisition
Directed by
[Your Name Here]
But poems on
B&w 35 mm?
Scenario one:
No longer civil
Folk [Your Name
Here] mounts
A buckboard
Is filmed / Is
History scripted
Revised for no
Sake or cause
But repetition
But repetition
Vs [Your Name
Here Up in Lights]
Scenario Two:
No lawnga civel
Foke [Yore Naim
Heer] shall alter
The parameters
Shall mownt tha
Bukbord re-inact-
mints appearin’
both on screne
& in tha awdienc