deepundergroundpoetry.com

Waiting On The Watts Line-with Crimsin

Imagine, all the people
waiting on the watts line
for unlimited calls

the night was hung a seance
of laryngitis scratchy throat
and secondhand motes

flipping coins in a can
tossing in the trowel
running helter skelter

to seal my gravel �
at zero dark gurdy
cranking a tune

imagine, all the people
when I began to sing
the Cotton-Eyed Joe
as the devil held the strings

sickly sweet indecent greed
I desire to rise
in the ranks of the ancients
speaking my peace as I go
restrained and ready to blow
with patience, I climb
assaulting senses as I go
you should know better

you know!

I am and was
I spit disaster and cultivate duality
chaos never had it so good
then the day he stuck his dick in the dirt
and fucked me

I am Luce pleased to meet you
now if you would be so polite
show yourself out

this is my grid not to mention my dimension
my playground prepared for by Mother

imagine, all the people
waiting on the watts line
stripping them of their face
still stuck in Lodi
sitting at the back of the train