This is writing that doesn't fit into any particular category. It's not prose and it's not quite poetry. It's not quite sane but it's something healthy. Not all of us have it figured out. I sure as hell don't. It's a series of locutions on madness and locura.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Power of Cyan

This is the kind of power that gets buildings built
Then tears them down again
From the hands of humans

I'd love to be Picasso
Because then I'd at least
I'd see in colors
Everyone has those
Days draped in Gray
And I want cyan
And it will be so.

We're all trapped
In an
Antfarm of brakelights
Writing on the walls in the dark

I'd love to be Picasso
Because then I'd at least
I'd see in colors
Everyone has those
Days draped in Gray
And I want cyan
And it will be so.
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