DRIP by Christian Wallace
This is what we are made of:
sleep like stalactites
drip
stone-wet smooth
reflect
light for life of Moth
atom abounds with space
like playground
frenzied energy unlike
…any man can metaphor…
all energy is that energy
a lightning bolt
on the backside of pink battery-toting
bunnies
crystals we have not yet become
drip
slow must be done slow
but Time has legs for running
reflect
no love for life of Man
a thousand nightbugs
dead
on the windshield
to get to where we’re going
blood wash blood
drip
from IV down neckside
pool pockets of sweat
reflect
diamond for skin of finger
The universe is uneasy
…feel it…
T I L T
Must we be disturbed?
Drip, love,
Drip
//ww
sleep like stalactites
drip
stone-wet smooth
reflect
light for life of Moth
atom abounds with space
like playground
frenzied energy unlike
…any man can metaphor…
all energy is that energy
a lightning bolt
on the backside of pink battery-toting
bunnies
crystals we have not yet become
drip
slow must be done slow
but Time has legs for running
reflect
no love for life of Man
a thousand nightbugs
dead
on the windshield
to get to where we’re going
blood wash blood
drip
from IV down neckside
pool pockets of sweat
reflect
diamond for skin of finger
The universe is uneasy
…feel it…
T I L T
Must we be disturbed?
Drip, love,
Drip
//ww