26 February 2006

remontreal

sundried morning lips
sink beneath
a river of red
septembers.


members re montreal, to feel strong i sit

beneath her saffron lips


( on a frozen river,

in a red canoe. keep paddling to
september in th old city. september is

getting further
away. keep looking up
memories in cohen's white
pages )

Comments:
maybe you shouldn't drink so much
 
what's a body w/o water.
 
shit little blah
whiny whiny whiny
 
'sundried morning lips'. love it. 'river of red/ septembers'. love it again.
(and then i love the end.)
 
thanx tomorrow girl
 
what is better than waking up to a poem by mr hardy? (besides waking up to a hardy of course)

i liked this one, i like the sad refrain in the too-many-syllables of september.

And 'where everything becomes unclear'? well thats just sexy.
 
"I am speechless
because you have fallen beside me
because your eyelashes
are the spines of tiny fragile animals."

L. Cohen
 
Hey,
This is a nice surprise. I wouldn't mind some sundried lips myself.

('th' is the new duh?)
 
"You climb into bed and recover the flesh.
You close your eyes and allow them to be sewn shut.
You create an embrace and fall into it."
L. Cohen
 
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