Litkicks Message Board Archive

saviour chick

Posted to Action Poetry

kindness shone forth in four movements of symphonic supersensualty... four portraits of monet come to life... everything the number four... but why? this moment is a mad rush of moonlit agony with palates of love in the empty crooners window... making u-turns round my solemn home to catch the radiant transmissions... tis the only relief.. i the patient and patent of some new strange spectre from coast to abominable crux of endless travelling... the panoramic movements of her whose brain moves movement... yes there's a medium like a new pen for twisted wrists... harmonious catastrophe of toggled emotions... makes me think to leave, catch the train to all those static fables... what darkness contains, the sequence of events will make clear... held hostage, one must be certain of the strain, of being trapped in the fourwall bed, the bed with no guider... to leave outta this bottled air and catch the ship...