the woman with the lock in her hands
too many minutes wasted
and look how far i got now.
so who needs to open up things
--old things--near-forgotten things--
these things locked up?

bitterness--tastes like this key.
nickel-tasting, tangy-cold.
frustrating, dry like mushrooms,
the time has come and gone for all that--
who needs that woman?

if it's the light that counts,
fuck keys--keys only open doors,
doors full of darkness and dank air.
only mushrooms
only mushrooms grow(if mushrooms do grow) here.

i heard of a place; there life is beautiful.
no mushrooms: too much life. no one
ever
locks doors: come on in! guten abend!
and a beautiful life
tastes like butter
and biscuits
and salty sweat.

This is now for you. All is not forgiven

but freely abandoned.

06/25/2002

Posted on 06/25/2002
Copyright © 2024 Indigo Tempesta