Sentient Grammar II
Savannah’s fever, in old Washington,
Down by the Potomac, wooden fields and long fjords,
Long dreams back then, with the lights out, blew em out with a shotgun
So we started doing stand up, for peanuts
Out on the road, nation rumbling.
Bout the time started downloading,
Read movies from the 70s, when nothing was in-house.
So gigantic planet, Titan-42 of course,
I felt big, like hard rubber
In fantastic quiver and short life,
Felt scary, again
As mr. nobody filt up his red wing,
And genius cracked across the sky,
And no one was willing to fill the linen, of older men;
Because that’s what he found in California, besides oil and advertisements.
I woke up, felt like a young Andrew Jackson, then got in the elevator, and remembered
Then I had coffee, and some drugs,
Fired off some comments, thought about lunch,
Ignored most important things, salty things
When you can write your own path,
Imagine 40-50 rooms of death,
I never felt better 11am, in slush and fear, cold and good looking
Felt a window, a pageant, a willowed companion,
A teacher, some wormwood, and an ever loving ghost, of everlasting delight
Ended up in cracked basement, with a family, a dead horse, an old pact.
While mothers crawled on ceilings, and gave wishes, and sought cravings.
And some, sporadically excellent, cling to batteries and books
And drivers, with their sweet little riders, raised money by selling arms
And your lower back was the sweetest, until I hated it and hated it’s sounds
So all the range roving and mars landing and fact checking,
Saying you were gordon lightfoot, or the flash, or something
but you said it in a wooded tavern, far out in your woods
Owned property, sold business
Had some tennis, some back pills
and a far off look,
looking to Brittania, or somewhere
Think of fast things, riding to the airport,
All the fast colors, running deep in the body,
Some never go away, some will enrich the rest of your life.
But they don’t care, they don’t want your crystal on the moon.
So I finally saw her on Monday;
She was way late;
She was walking with a coffee and windshields and dripping in animal’s insides.
The world in her hair.
Said she’d never speak again,
And vowed to never break character.
So Copernicus bereaved and busted all over these golden stars,
A rave of information all over your colorful Parliament.