you suck man
you really do
you're the great fucker sucker
no doubt about it.
happens every time;
one minute phantasmagorically frozen
next ------- Woosh
I'm sucked into your world
spinning inside your washing machine mind
feeling my way through your dictionary,
metaphors of colour and line
tumbling refractions in the whirlpool.
I understand cycles ----- Miro
my mum used a whirlpool
I know all about spin rinse
coloureds and delicates,
take your harlequins
drip-dry prancing around singing loud
"we're iron free brilliant in colour
brilliant in soul we dance as we please
so perfect in drip-dry we're not even chinese"
and what about the dogs,
not to mention a few birds as well spun out
all unsteady from an elongated spin,
woozy in the eye wobbly in the legs
was it vodka straight in the final wash?
dog needs a breathalyzer to walk the ladder
moon keeps searching for that straight line;
won't find it of course, bleached out
such a talent with the stain remover, try as I may
unlike my linen I can't find a smudge,
daubs ordained by the holy palette yes
jazz yes swing be-bop rythm yes yes yes
all in the womens' faces forms yes dreams yes
buttons silks and cotton stars and space,
clarity of thought in the final rinse yes.
I understand cycles ------- Miro
my mum used a whirlpool ------ yes
she also left her signature.