And I thought of things, things that come in small clutches, tiny memories, thoughts evoking the approach of time or footsteps about to open graves. More things than the troubled...
Jungle, the cave human reservoir & cistern ... . quagmire and bog, but no alpine meadow, fairest glance of goodness in soiled wildflower under winter snows.
I'm sitting in a "sixties bar." No put-on. All around old Rolling Stones music is playing. I can tell it's a sixties bar by the spiffy waiter recycling sheets for tablecloths. The sixties was "into," environment....
As she's lying there in sherbet panties looking somewhat disaffected, a nez perce expression bordered by sleep, think of the Sultan's regalia his entourage of kings...
And a little farther the Fu Manchu mustache curved in mock epic proportions of a scimitar un-sheaved for action, perhaps the executioner's progress his victims entombed to their skulls...
As they are crawling up to you think of Angor Wat the sweating walls cold in stone steam broiling in the jungle; or, that most ancient of men, the Chinese beggar the thin rinds of his skin...
Only marginal chances of finding a Great White in my coffee although the cigaret's tubular belly is flotsam against my hand - a dirty kerosene color, sleek & grey.
Fury of chrysalis, or crepuscular caterpillar's roosting nest, Fidgeting cocoon dry in annoyance and the reptile caress Of empty sound. See it near the trestle, Above broad November leaves,...
The white pin wheel of heat turns up the grasses' edge. Some dried plant stalks shrivel, then melt openly into layers of fire. It is end - time for the community's Christmas trees. ...
"From the indigo straits to Ossian's seas, on pink and orange sands washed by the vinous sky, crystal boulevards have just arisen and crossed, immoderately inhabitedby poor young families who get their food at the green grocers...
The most appropriate comment, besides pig knuckles on racks & rabbits skewered on prongs or the Chinese lettering playing tricks with your Occidental eyes, is the Breakfast at Tiffany's...
Pausing to see light thru chinks the corner door battered barn floor musty webs and pebbled face expect shadows from flecked dust, yet damsel flies with doily edge blanket the air...
A surtax on the ecosystem; so many raindrops, mists and bud breakings record spring days, that the movement of sap fluids and other vital juices involves all life on a colossal...