The Meeting


Season of youth
erect obedience for the lost
human satin voyage
A void out dying or is just you?
his death we’re ashes
across the bold sky

contain all my hopes
a terror of words, which they called
in at the parallel ritual
fire burns edges when all else fails
for my lovers and healers to excuse

It’s our riot, the true artist
fell behind an altar of confusion
keeper of this tomb, tie beauty of all ages

it’s mainly a refreshing drunk evening
in his town, New Orleans
We called

Towards the joint, wit of babes
You’re his Egyptian mother
wild and free airing for the sun
waves of jazz and cunts outstanding
our meeting beyond a clear retreat


Longer onto the autumn lines
wishes turn on their intense boredom
streets change as the lives you meet
people and music, the whole pain
in an enormous intimacy
Broken rags of hate
freeze this mental rainbow
down at the cinema,
the last base of a social relation
angels block the passage of memory
we’re away & thrown to those who pass