summer is king
the king is mad
in the hotted up nighttime
cigarette lighter
a business card
a phony ID
gun in the upholstery
the sun turns into a lipstick red disc
as it majestically descends down the mountains sides
editor baby chop me outta line
im hurting for this not to end
i go down on my knees but its no good to try
the immortals are down in the woods
balmoral beach midsummer night dream
in another life i park my car
the chips have gone cold
the drinks have gone warm
the kids have grown up
the fools have wised up
baby i see you in the mirror in the wardrobe
i see you fly over the backs of roofs in crumble down streets
i see you following the astral stars
i think about you as i race home
i crash on thru the surface of middletown
i fall down the tunnel and pop up elsewhere
i enter your limits unbeknownst
pinging off the corners of the screen
i go outside and yawn
my face hits the grass repeatedly
crimson n clover over n over
the sky food arrives
someone shouts out loud
in agony or triumph …its all the same from here
cars blur by
comedians at the wheel
rush by the factories and showrooms
my life like a film i dont understand
slump down in my chaise longue
i strap up the rest of the month
monday night looked cute in its cheap undies
tuesday night was dressed in clouds
wednesday smeared in ash
thursday naked like a jay walker
friday in chain mail
saturday skinned in silvery innards
sunday cant be seen ….it hasnt arrived yet…
the cockroaches continue to scuttle about
i liberate a few from this existence
australia, eh
yeah
thats right