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Elves Chipping Ice



Sunburst handcuffs us
to heaven’s hell

Under some spell

Some mystical
architecture

Punctuating midnight
desert sky

Quarter tank of gas

In my broken car

We drove

To rain burst heights

Higher than kites

The electric razor’s
edge

Of the magnetic
lightning strikes

Pounding the air … in
silence

The city below

A Buddha belly full
of lights

The spaceships
hovering calm

Love and blood
spilling over the brim

Heartbeats tangled
and mangled

In mellow yellow
sheets

Candle flames
spitting in the darkness

Black paint
scratching names into the white walls

As we crawl

Deeper within each
other

Some Vegas parade
beating us senseless

My face torn to
shreds by blonde hair

Hands clutching

Tightly, squeezing
out the sweat

Making fire

Elves chipping ice

Down in the valley of
America

Somewhere else

Combing the ghetto

For liquor and
lubricant

Back in my beater

Pushing it over the
rutted roads

To dams on high

Where the antelope
and the junkies parade

Staring spiraled
through dusty windshield

Drunk as trees

Unlovable

Untouchable

Calmly standing at
the window

Pushing the
moth-bitten curtains aside

For a glimpse of foul
loneliness

Seeing your white
dress

As you come around
the curve

My tattered and gray
writer’s mansion

Long abandoned

Hunched over like
some elderly man

Striking a match

The ancient catching
fire

Blowing up

Like the Buddha belly
lights

Of some town

I used to live in …

Copyright 2011 by a.r. walther



The BEST holidays

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