Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

when the poets walked the street
universes rolled in the heavens
dogs barked at the moon
cats meowed at the stars
books turned pages right out
in the open, and sometimes pages
ripped, candles dripped wax
on the words that fell from the sky
when poets walked the street
things happened for no reason
doors opened and closed

strange objects appeared out of the blue
because poets were walking down alleys
looking for the light at the far end
following lifetimes of far memory
while trying to forget something
like looking at the blue veins on my hand

poets walked the streets of language
in this far out land of ink dice rolling down
through the crazy town of leaning landscapes
written across the pale horizon

because they were lost in the forest
of civilization, and they wanted to know
the meaning of shoe polish, cotton balls
and razor blades and old crow
and all those night thoughts
rattling around in the dark
don't you know

they walked the street of the sun
those poets
like they were seeing something
in the distance, some point in the middle
of nothing and nowhere, so they walked
on the tree lined street, as the whole world
passed them by, and the leaves
fell where they passed, nothing lasts

but some words they left behind on paper

I think they were seeing something like the middle of infinity, which is exactly, precisely where it's at ... just have to pull out the art stick and beat people in the head with it until they, well, they just...

Far memory, far memory, doors and windows.