COME UNDONE

COME UNDONE

I remember seances of nighttime and dreaming this chaos of carress, so little and terrible enmeshed, broken brittle and tied down to before, a never memory regret and this is timing with the lucid grasp of whitewash climbing, being before while one comes down the trajectory and we dance like light on the threshold of without and seen in two without a circumference, succumbing slumber and retreat. Perfect.

            and scene the tired green between, lighthouse score of in this team, a heated conversation without hesitation, a long , slow scream rolls over and tells me goodnight, i handle intricate lacework, come to me in this weave and we’ll shy and re-live over this agreement, over this hanging city with relapse upside down, and now my piano tires and i can’t be.

got a cold, never say never, Cher is screeching at me – what sort of a mnd puts this on so early in the day – telling myself i can’t write, i can’t do this, earn the right to be write.

            Syphillis blowing in the curtains and tasty temperature shimmers on the stove, the deck is my open mouth yawning and waiting for the next surge and the cuddle of last nights wine shared glimmers to be bathroom tiles while we shower and grimace and play guitar without any love, without any address, without any hello and without any now.

Nicolee Ferris

2000

CAST

CAST

my naivety stretches out in front of a cast of thousands and I groan , perhaps grimace over the strategical rows of sunshine faces all suffering from lightblindness. How beautiful the light must be  to make them blind. Not being able to see anything at all, is better than being a frying pan, one notices. The universal definition of god being that which does not succeed and it will only come if there is no turn to the planets of the deep, rush and disguise with the little balloon party of frozen fish, sixes and resonance.8 Lord grant me that of everlasting de-light and we’ll see what you mean after its arrived, scratched into ones sightscapes like an unneccessary virgin. {They’re always never-ending.} who is my girl and where are the gates built around the time of dilated students and scriptmeat.

         He rules the world with truth and grace.

Backwards is all in a fucking direction it is, its just a goddamn direction, inverse is. It is. Its just a fucking direction like

NORTH

                           SOUTH

                                                             EAST

WEST

                                                                        YOU          PEST

but without getting laid like a true nympho whore.

Nicolee Ferris Tues day, 29 August 2000

BREAK

BREAK

instruments loose and bile-wrapped with token images of computer

printouts. The ruin pathos questionable in this

tie-dyed taste of mouth, the silence resonating with

numb tickling readout in a bedroom of not long before.

sea cast doubt framed with simpleton stethoscope,

relived, rementioned again.

tasteless restrung reborn give me death poked out senses

and redrape, in sanity precocious, I love in mellow

rebreaths of this tainted agony, and resip the syrup that                  

once was unworthy and dried out in nightscape

circumference of rewill and danger, this fluffy

uncertain of brain captive lock, in frozen ice stance of

outside regret, shame and nonsense, nuisance,

now sense.

allowed in re-gifted, demonstrated again, this

yellout to the stranger on the sidewalked as ones grin

steals all the moment could begin, and re-sit the turmoil-

the light jumps again, bouncing in nothing but who-ha

and exact dizziness talking of no place to go, this where and what,

a must-ending show, oh for heavens sake and reach into crumbling

regret as light takes vacuum and i sigh in this new set,

a smile, a first crime, a time-unwanted handle, a re-shifted

smirkiness dressed now for battle

and re-admittance to mightiness a set far too small

Nicolee Ferris, August 00