Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I crack the liquored ice
with decrepit molars
the crunch like glass shards
that cut the mind's tongue

I snap my jaw
like a zombie pit bull
locked onto a slab of meat
hanging in a tree outside my door

I toss ideas into plastic tubs
oxygen starve them til the time is right,
stacks of opportunistic paper tossed
with little regard for their destiny

cosmic flashes raw and bleeding
the heart torn apart by insomnia and booze
fragments from the manic jet stream
inked vomit or transcendental ore ?

nuggets of the mind searching
for a place to land, sitting in containers
on a floor in a room in no place special...
piles of possibilities .....looking for love

artistic existentialism, the untidy process of crafting tidy summaries of What Is - there's a little wicker basket in my kitchen full of scribbled scraps penned under the liberating influence of spiced rum - random notions that bubbled and burped up from some reptilian structure in my skull - on rare occasion they coalesce into form, even more rarely transcending their atavistic origins.... it's what we aspire to do, I guess...... Frankenstein trying to animate Prometheus.....

Love them zombie pit bulls......

great response sasha.... almost halloween...old Frankie Stein gonna raise some hell.....yeak mark, dem undead pit bulls are also ready to rock