Can’t quite get to the sound…
— See You at The Movies, J Mascis
Between us and god—
open mouth, open paw—
we count the seconds
inside a clap of thunder
and crack of lightening.
Someone spills a prayer—
blushes of winter sun—
troubled by the quiet break
in diminishing sound.
That switch to without—
pause, absence—
eclipses the gathering light.
“She was territory and words occupied her.” — Jeanette Winterson
Contrived as a self-portrait
& captured in landscape mode,
diamonds rest at her throat.
Lips split wide enough to connect
in rapture of majestic glare.
Caged, he filled negative space.
To steal a line:
the crowd’s a rapacious beast
Starlings sang from burnt trees —
songs misinterpreted as warnings.
Ecstasy migrates inward.
Cities bend to western light
when a sun rises full & tender.
In ascension, fireworks sound blue.
—————
line from Silkworm. “Tarnished Angel,” Firewater (1996)
Cache Culture 