17 syllables

the planets of the other world feel it more

17 syllable ku written while listening to the music of Scott Cortez*

rising to the surface of my coffee worlds borne from a weave of guitar drones

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she merges with the window on a Monday light is a dog she keeps for walking

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if I hum walls will crumble or become cotton candy then I’ll wear the blue shoes

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keep me up at night I’ll write your name with soft pencils in a camel’s eye

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running across red fields we change our leopard’s spots and head for Paris

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most of it made from air we lean into it through four generations

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if anything: I watch a rose bloom in The Origin of the World

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half the language a stranger eating take-away food she’s a dust cloud

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a 108.000 km/hour through nowt the speed of life as we know it a boy’s ball

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in the right pupil a revolving door to a hall for seahorses

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that soft carpet that rough skin your virtual self gets infected too

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mostly done by repetition life goes on your reflection: a hat

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let’s stay where the warmth is we can speak French if you like and eat apples

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pockets full of faces the hole you entered was the one that ate god

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let’s move slowly not to damage the light the streets will catch us and laugh

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born among nomads a dune is taken to the sacrificial mound

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I’ll hide u if u want read from the book of fruit sleep just half the day

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between my ears a melting altar for the absent some muscles hurt

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sometimes a whale or a biscuit slowly slowly pull out squeezed and deaf

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believe me it’s April the wind is a long cold stranger passing by

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3000 milliseconds have you got your hat on while phoning slipfooteyestar

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in a short life (they’re all short) eternity is a D-major chord

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like your loved one written in Neutrino you’re older than sand and beef

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