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Scorpioman In TrashcanlandScorpioman In Trashcanland
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Sky inventions flying high so far away for the money. Cutting the sky in repititious little slashes. Leaving smoketrail scars across a dirty grey blue sky. Afternoon blitz to my sanity and broken heart now. She's making time with a friend of mine he prays to her valentine while she counts all the money. She has a hazy way to put me in a sway I get clipped but still want to stay the rest of the day torn and frayed is just passing away. Anna left the slave for pay, said she'd stay but she is gone too anyway with a two mile fuck down some alley. With a mobile unit driving through the rainy Summer night. Now pearline needs a lime for her beer so she dissapears and I just stare into the crowd knowing all the while that I have lost her. She trades fertility symbols with him in the dusty little night with dusky candlelight. Saw a shooting star that night I was on the bridge saw its light watched it fall behind a hill near her house. In the Summerville I felt a chill of rememberance of her stoic beauty and all the mystery that surrounds her. time on my side is not always what it seems to be some call it karma it ebbs and flows all around me thick and misty. Streetlight casts dark this haunted visage mostly imagination overworked in irony and signs of different factions. The rain fell like little clumps of jell as I sit through this living hell I just sit here in this silence and watch dark colors. And I - I - I - I feel that I am in the sky like I am underground.
Rain infusion soaking into the dry earth. Will make ground soft when we try to walk on it. Pearline walks on the line while Persiphine looks into the water. Anna nightwatches out her window to the butterfly row where the flowers all glow and shine. And I kind to the bud of wine in the Caroline with Persiphine and Fondarella it explodes and kept exploding. And I- I - I - I - feel like I am in this guy like I am underground.
Mask of blue a wondrous symbol in my mind's eye. Green moon like a giant coin shining. They move fast for the money they move blue for the love they need. They have no recollection in the repetition they become a blur a kaliedescope of flesh and fur and the dark side of kindness the kind of karma she can put on you. The rain like rotten plums you stop by late and ask him for some the sound echoes when you come my pain is like a drum pounding behind my eyeballs. Scorpioman in this trashcanland look to him he takes your hand his gifts glow as he shows his love in trinkets and soft favors. Did you know that it was time to go I see now how you took it slow you must be gone forever. It feels stoned here all alone no I do not have a phone it just makes me demented. And my soul is like a charred soul lost in fog I can't control somewhere dark and cold it's empty and filled with the enemy. And I- I - I - I - feel that I am in the sky I feel underground.
-Will Dockery (c)2003
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