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June 17, 2000
BI-DIRECTIONAL PREDICTION - bamboo book
BI-DIRECTIONAL PREDICTION
...
Grimes buildings recall
return to early dinner cell
phones hallway for raging years
skin that business ever did
she certainly did not
on search for kinky heels
on tables and tops and alcohol.
Our rank is flat and grapes
your rambles and screeching
and struggle for a score
are you hungry, are you?
Why should we swinging
and whistle and patrol
and moving with recess
of white and body shoulders
no wrinkles, old and aging
she looked then up and laughed
and sit bare on the bench
in the darkening shade.
Our rank is flat and grapes
your rambles and screeching
and struggle for a score
are you hungry, are you?
I do not see at all away
I met him once before
an awful lot of money
I hold the phone and shaking
frightening afraid
that slithering easy.
It's hot,
it's complicated.
Our rank is flat and grapes
your rambles and screeching
and struggle for a score,
are you hungry, are you?
I'm still on cell-phone hallway
and sipping a long-long
my specialty is pain
proximity concerns
confusing little rituals
now carried on so long.
Predictions all the way
mathematically detailed.
Our rank is flat and grapes
your rambles and screeching
and struggle for a score
are you hungry, are you?
I'd rather fool for better
its gray again I say
that saw them with my eyes
and happy smiling smitten
they were into this day
of fog and wind and clovers
like dragging skin
on swamps and chariots briefly.
Our rank is flat and grapes
your rambles and screeching
and struggle for a score
are you hungry, are you?
There in the fields of fields
on narrow dining chairs
we always set on Sundays
on hailing hands to facts
and glancing at the earth
for rhymes sometimes mistaken
of the past surprisingly skating.
A MAN AMBLING ACROSS A FIELD
featuring on getunderground.com, Nov 2004
featuring on "In Our Own Words: A Generation Defining Itself - Volume 6”, MWE, USA, 2005
...
A man ambling across the field
when the flames have died out then
the locust nursing the bats out of grandfather�s attic
and then came mainstream
and then there was Fred
with no prior plan specific topic or direct research
and then there's Joan
prepared for the emotionally fraught freshman
and then there were Christmas lights
and this bomb this house this papers
the way this agenda developed
this overwhelming sense of helplessness
a funky dance like an industrial accident
a Freudian typo or the real thing
or is this the last mile
where was the photo taken
is it too much and then the phone rang
and the old man standing over the bar felt sorry for me as I teared at the thoughts of before.
It doesn't matter now, he said.
And then I knew it.
The swinged melody and red lipstick just got to me, I said and then he knew it wasn't so.
This is how I feel.
This is how I cry.
Smoke this cigarette and hope I'll die.
And then I shut the drawer with its old ching and watched him lean on the doorpost.
© Fortunato Caragliano
Posted by lck at June 17, 2000 05:12 PM
