DREAM

in a black canvas

illuminate dancer

moving only hair

with scalp muscle

whip

the red skirt like fire

no rules

but desire.



under a bridge

where the soul of a dead man

remembers stonehenge

giant horses

that hauled the blocks in place



at the top of a temple

where the rays of light split

the sun into pieces

no salon

treating the weather

only keratin

only buddha

and jesus

and movies

and bellies

and conscience

and secrets

and nothing rhymes

and nothing connects

in the hole where everything was born



the same picture disconnects

reproduces

itself into triplets

who hate each other



a purple pool

swims around the island

man no longer needs swim

water does the swimming

man merely is the root

of a tree

that has already drowned



the moon punctured by the branch

shifted by the blinking

cleavage

gulping red

lungs

of saliva



the dirty Ganges

are next to godliness

cleanliness is borrowed from Jesus

white cloths



the bubbling cauldron

of art

invents its own color

the oracle

sees new things

each day



the oracle cannot interpret

the message to the traveller

it is too new

it is too alien



the alien alone can understand

the oracle is trapped in the cauldron



drenched in the color of newness

human eyes can not see

what stonehenge cut

from crotch and drum