Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the clouds moved in
the dreams started
babies were born
some became bigots with bellies
others let their edges go dusty
america grew a fabulous animal face
and lived in a cave
outside candy cars went
up & down the highways
playgrounds of dark scripture by the roadside
that climbed up into the trees
licking the clouds as they went
unhooking rhythm pornographies
stiletto heels & swollen nipples
all this before writing was invented
when all the lands were holy
amniotic
lycanthropic
necromantic
enchanted
distilled
the air as delicious as food

i'm reluctant to put any reply to words given the $10 words you've generously heaped upon but another original poem from your catapulting madcap mind that deserves a neon billboard overlooking Mt Washington.

I'll give you a 10 (not in dollars) for this, el mingo, as I stretch my wallet in some adjective worthy of your post...

wild, like an LSD trip captured ...a brisk, colorful walk through time...

tight...

puffy nipples
in america
ugh....i could
elaborate...
yeah it was
in '77 and she
was a dancer
in a little club
downtown....yeah
i know it sounds
like a bob seger
tune, but it was
the way it went down
she made my life
miserable and sublime
daily and i had to walk
away in the end
puffy nipples and all.....

ps...i had to order dessert here at the bar after reading this mingo......

a step into the twilight zone
where flashbacks dance the samba

Thx folks -

"...the air as delicious as food."

Ain't it the truth. I was a bartender through college…when I closed to clean up I always opened a side window behind the counter. There was a bakery down the block that would be baking its bread, rolls, etc. for the next morning. It was heaven.

Nice poem.

68degrees

now ya hit on something there - I have always avoided getting a job in a bakery because I would be a butterball before too long - I'd never be able to stay out of the bread or the pies - no lie
even reading your description of it I could smell it -

"candy cars went
up & down the highways
playgrounds of dark scripture by the roadside
that climbed up into the trees
licking the clouds as they went"

Damn, man.

"when all the lands were holy"...

Pretty much, ya. Ya slayin' me here, and thanks ...

thx Mark - we all in it - jam on to the last wiggle -

it is a jam life we b mixin in whether they know or dont...jam on me mingo....delicioso poem...glad it got pumped back up!