socialight

Written by: Dort James

a day we went round in cycles until our senses cracked open our eyes into the vangogh greens birched our ears smacked by seabirds gulls gobbing off perchpolluted in our nostrils the toxic bay and ozonescent that seaweed belches beyond which we touch base grounded through our sneakers over mandrakehandled roots thirsty the ariels of the island it thralls me and I am also video pronouncing this is metafiasco you leading me landing us nowheres following the one true path to enjambment of the dark of chlorophyll waterless the sun photos and we are waterless set in a shoot of turning shoots lifeline a fake slick of isthmus cast off cast off you and I am all crenulations and palisades thinking this all must come to an ending to ahead like slipshod jackdaws come crisping across the heat toasted toadstools stopping only to talk and yes even to each other sweating chanting hums decomposing future memoirs spying on the natives howling from the tourists two last things finding binocular hands listless cutoff from the cymbeline sand by short steep racks of rockwalls sandwiched by soil and grass and an idling car pulsing in the early afterlight a magic roustabout of tapping every faculty each musty sense one more day slapped down in stone for an organgrinding holy day