two leaves dancing in river

two leaves dancing in river

poems by leum

Pawn to C4, kindly.

Tomorrow is never late.

Billions of infinitives tightly lipped around the devil's loss.

Like 401 preemptive kisses, 403 masquerade minutes, mansion-chipped 404 lightbulbs in a catch-all sun garden.

You see, I'm looking for the queen everywhere, my piece falling off the board, an orchid praxis you see, I ate your heart first.

Tacks on tacks on tacks on tacks, the stage is on a stage, what blasphemies triggering hidden seeds in the hum of the cicadas.

Thundering heartbeats, palindrome deadlines, Jupiter in the evening branches.

What lurks in the middle of the sun.

Stillwater over an upside-down Wisconsin you see, every word is a lie serrating your eyes from mine, you see through the red curtain, an enigma.

death is a swan waiting for you at the end of a river or I'm hungry for another soul oh superfluous superfly, I wanna take you out to eat the dancers alive have a picnic right after under a dead sky pick the dandelions wish by wish until there's no more damn wine

Hurt today and wound tomorrow But caress my yesterday.

Gas station running out of air, The moon keeping score.

I'll grill in the desert With my propane tank loose.

That'll give 'em a bang.

I don't give a cock's death You can all just rip the pigs by the limbs Is all a curse to be cured in a day's time, I reckon I could live in Autumn's red, paint the yellow Another brush of yellow, yesterday I will swim to the fountain for red hill trees Tomorrow, I tell myself, the swan In the middle of billions of orchid evenings

Glass teeth fishing the grand line The candle still burns once upon the sand So America's a dime of thieves and dreams A conglomerate hexagram or pipeline fantasies The never-ending spotlight I wanted to brake, but couldn't I was drinking fire on a mountain waiting for you to call I was sleepwalking county-barking holding up the sun

They got a contract with your name almost on it mother hickey-ing hook ivy fucking seal I'm towering no man's land ex virgin torrent blues I burn with the fucking sun Ada marries the moon

I guess I wouldn't call you The silent waterfall, the blind static ahead Where the blue bird treads the man-made marsh I like last pour rain from the trees And alas, the crossfire of doves You are and I was The honeysuckle huckleberry clownfish Dancing underneath the blanket of a neon Black sea of crows at the bend of the yellow river

The moon wanes and wades and waits But at least I survived without you scintillate foils You rather restitute than chrono reticle ridicule If only the destitute were pension riddled You scrounge for fucks and minerals In the dirt we will become Cinnamon toast crunch desirable edibles ugh!

But that's a little bit too off-topic sentimental Everything here where here is forever Restless residue my respite But that was summers ago

My mountain, myself you spin, my words, your webs una mirada, el lago, tu turno I can't stand this consternation I exhume anymore than the killing of black robins but au contraire, elite evils are far more dark etc, if it weren't so damn hot etc, sipping the yolk of the sun's eyes through the straw of our bones, etc.

You are the cracks of rock I paint in dots.

I am the watch you scramble in knots.

Daybreak catharsis stigma stagnant monolith God under the Texan moon Oh wild silk fire borderland Oh sunflowering rosary-red roses Lo is you Oh, this is what you stare at, isn't it?

Gold, green swans in the sky.

I mean, she’s always dancing in the middle.

What good will praying do if nothing is sung right?

Oh well, such failed life nothing the red morning light burns but reminds.

Oh birdsong bells, and the birdsong bells!

I gotta face the sun and speak about the stars.

That my blood-red stained hourglass dirt curses wronged, desperate, harboring the worst hunger.

The heart of the people in a crowded mall.

Golden days in a starstruck haze.

God my Oh

I lit destiny on requiem loop walking a prism out of the fire the blazing eyes two lovers in the water my heartless heart cutting the world chasing the sun to the end of the road all the petals on the floor The waterfall in my ears.

I am the wolf that creeps beneath your bed Look at my wings, burnt and rusted Pandemonium precedents, anarchy for ages, but Wanting to say something like love-clipped feathers No door safe on Hallow's Eve Even after everything else ever after Infantile conjectures, conjunctions, convictions Walking into the fire with all the gold of the world Food on the plate but nothing to eat El fondo esperando el mundo Outside the hate, gluttony Biting the crayons that color me honeybee gold Just another camel learning from a dove The last question answered by falling leaves.

Toro, toro, toro y una luz hablando consigo misma.

Todavía da llanto el sol y la luna le desecha.

Adyacente, debajo, un árbol, una flor cubriendo la culebra.

Have you ever seen it in your eyes, cried thereafter?

On the seventh day we rest, like a story never ready to rest.

Eating laughter, the rock in the ocean still believes.

I’ve lost the interest of being heard, no matter the audience, there’s always a herd, the bird on my head eating worms from fishingline hook eyes.

I’ve learned the exits, culled in alleyways that go nowhere, kissed my other and said goodbye often.

I’m meeting you again today for the umpteenth time now and, well, wow.

Your hazel crowns piercing the cyan sky Never enough gold for you and I.

Here you go wild, a bundle of birds on a spanish marsh bled of ivory glass-stained mirrors in a cadaver café and though the moonflower dances on my fingertip my painted paradox could never drink half that sliver of sun running in the leaves

All Rights Reserved © 2021 Luis E Utrera Morales