Come fly off the rocker with me,
into the tipping point
of life, and tonight --
So I can feel the gun in your hair
which tastes like air
and the way you look at me when --
"come and dance with me."
Heavens, keep your shoulder to the wheel
you're too beautiful to define sex as an act of anything but the way trees puke oxygene.
Come on! fly off the rocker with me!
Or just come and dance with me.
About the poem:
So I just wrote this last night. Looking for a bit of input. Just thought I would share it with you guys. I tried to utilize parataxsis (juxtaposing of unlike images) here without any base words. I think it makes the whole thing seem spastic and undefined which was the goal. Let me know what you think, you fools. Rip it to shreds and dance on its ashes if you would like.
