Monday, December 31, 2007

three landscapes, poem from the city



Interior
Impotant incandascent light
the tint is of poison blue

Illusion
Orange trees.
3 O clock Sun.
elegant green.
rich yellow
delicious smell of cigerrettes
And the mood is,
as if the Sea around.

Exterior
Yellow is obscene as a naked yoke of egg
The smudged view of distant trees is marijuana green
The iris clocks, in the trippy eyes of angels tick away
the moon through the jelly-black roads