|
R A C H E L O' N E I L L |
||
Famous last wordsSHUT-UP – I reserve the right to take your heart out with an instrument like eternity; this is the spitting image of peace of mind – Unsure? Then ask yourself “Haven’t you always desired famous last words”? These are the licenses of perturbed friendship- if we argue about number plates mine is the most succinct SHTFKUP and don’t believe I won’t back tight up to your welcome mat - my plans are like-wise. That night you dream steadily up the driveway, bumper dent to door shut- up, a scratch; haven’t you always craved peace and quiet? Graciously, love for disturbance means wonder stands its ground talking myself out – tonight I donate myself to myself. Once inside I see you have remodeled the bathroom, the cupboard with the thermostat right to your belly button upholstered acrylic everything has opportunity to sweat and life drips parallel lines; silence in state. In the few photographs - lips sunning there are eyes that hold in for all they’re worth intestines falling to dirt , the glue and transparent tape we picked from groins of books, trailing a little while after. Needless to say we are happy then, with upheavals? Our resourcefulness ? The dismembered library, making laughter-out-loud , ours? Somewhere in the laughter – tremble, you’ll turn out fine, somewhere find a place in you that’s never made a sound blame it in somewhere, occupy it all along. Somewhere I want my crowded room now lets get personal – so personal, eternally so , sound is heart-felt solidified next to stone in the image of the instrument, words grow with your feet and shrink the sentiment, sober with size and a smell ; unidentifiable peace. Seriousness is extract – the story snoozing anomalies, her stomach – debilitating indigestion, and this is almost always the problem – things that sleep in; she says not to worry about trouble spots – blind or beauty as motivational speakers use to describe the habitable area above air and below the bone : I was born to live-in, she said accusing the sweating bed but using my name - I want fingernails again you always want what you can give yourself - an itch. Lets get out of here – the world under the grass, spit a certain magnetism, draw into liquid sensation under wind broken under world calm equipped unsolved – the thought of foul-play manned or unmanned as space has been the espionage of dust over-spoken cloud of language – energy muscle over-lapping -yes, just reach it the things that decay out there. There, humble beginnings live up to the condition of hope so little understood except when salvaged or under siege of maneuver - remember we camped out under the falling debris and I swear you looked so peaceful with you mouth open sleeping just in case the catch of the day came hurtling kept secrets sold libraries warmed foundations burnt your tongue with something like tingling phoenix for encouragement, a kiss a taste of things to come I part your lips through the parachute – feel you exceed, my mission is to feel you up – like fuel I fall asleep breathing to make it last. Taking the heart out, the ground emerges in saliva – a hand becomes what sticks together , company being a last resort, solidity a skill, jurisdiction a name for the soil type SHUT-UP hand to mouth breath burnished finger ends skin flat till time, no, more or less our condition shudders out its welcome: COME IN CAN I TAKE YOUR - SHUT-UP. LEAVE IT THERE THEN JUST DON’T FORGET IT WHEN YOU LEAVE |
||
|
| ||
|
Comments | ||