tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24176201894611612792011-04-21T12:57:54.930-07:00Human consciousness is not linear; it is marred by thoughts, surrendered to by guilt, subject to ecstasy and fueled by selfish compulsion. Shouldn't a piece of literature be the same?Edward Drawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726400200510856094noreply@blogger.comBlogger31100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2417620189461161279.post-73461132830692837652008-12-19T01:42:00.001-08:002008-12-19T01:47:39.327-08:00Voice bursting through the speakers like a motorway<br />Your Norma-Jean-Smirk<br /><br />Lips the red of speeding buses<br /><br />I turn towards you like an Einstein,<br />Hair perfectly mad<br /><br /><br />Well, a Boris Karloff playing Einstein dressed in a tutu<br /><br /><br />The cinema with its penetrating darts of silk;<br />Forces the image of an actor to dance upon your cheek<br /><br />My eyes smother your face as if it were an epic<br />You shake off the stare with a shrug<br /><br />But I am watching you for the very first time<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2417620189461161279-7346113283069283765?l=black-teeth.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Edward Drawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726400200510856094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2417620189461161279.post-11297414987450527262008-12-12T10:03:00.000-08:002008-12-18T03:17:21.169-08:00Before the first frost<br />When the fruit<br />Hangs in anticipation<br /><br />Retracted<br /><br />Parasites eat deeply into the fat flesh of the tree bark<br /><br />And an opera of birds<br /><br />Chatter a chorus<br /><br />A great, sonorous<br />Booming<br />Challenge<br /><br />It reminded me<br />Of an olive tree that I saw<br />In Cyprus<br /><br />Its ridiculous bough of nipples<br /><br />Pale, withered<br /><br />The seeds were the percussion<br />A black tambourine<br />Punctuating the silence<br /><br />Of the cormorant<br /><br />In the distance<br /><br />I wished I could have placed my fingers around the pulp<br />Plucking at the veins<br />As I did<br /><br />When I was a suckling<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2417620189461161279-1129741498745052726?l=black-teeth.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Edward Drawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726400200510856094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2417620189461161279.post-2742738443934445202008-12-12T09:51:00.000-08:002008-12-12T10:02:33.515-08:00<span style="font-family: arial;">"A Woman is a beautiful thing</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">In the same way that a volcano</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Is a beautiful thing"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Says the mother</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Whilst offering a tramp</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">A nosegay of violets</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Rather than suffer the infamy</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Of money</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">The daughter seemed latent</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Behind her charming umbrella</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">"What is it you want next?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Obligingly she follows</span><br /><span style="font-family: arial;">Umbrella wet between her legs</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2417620189461161279-274273844393444520?l=black-teeth.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Edward Drawhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09726400200510856094noreply@blogger.com0