There will be sad air dripping
its stale nectar on the ground.
No paper towel will conquer it,
muddy puddles everywhere.
The children of strange gods
will walk between the toxins,
naked, luminous, unseeing
of the danger near their feet, peril.
We will read the solutions from
Cracker Jack boxes and breathe,
“These things will not work.”
A dove purple and green coos.
We are not the brittle nubile
whores we once were; get over it.
You will pay a fair rate this time
and thank your lucky stars for it.
Ah hah! You are pregnant with it,
pregnant with poison and darkness.
You will give birth to words and
nightmares, and it will hurt, bad…
I can’t help you with that, sorry –
you must do your own bleeding.
I will put on a pot of coffee and
try to stay awake for your travail.
Photos from the old railroad station of the Eureka Springs & North Arkansas Railway Company
“Syd Weedon takes us on a wonderful journey to the past in this post, featuring a large collection of train-themed photographs. Syd’s careful processing brings all the nostalgia out of the pictures, creating imagery that is highly sympathetic to the subject on display as well as instantly taking the viewer back to a time long ago.”
– Toad Hollow Photography on LightStalking
Click on picture for larger view…
Step through the door
between two worlds,
one to be departed
and one to be explored,
and one is unknown.
Fall asleep and awaken.
Waking and sleeping
are different worlds.
I flee from troubling vision,
sweating, out of breath,
flying not as well as before.
Awake, escaped, relieved.
Sex. Orgasm, “La petite mort,”
the little death, release that comes.
Dissolve into the universe,
indistinguishable for the moment.
Go from particular to oceanic,
a self to non-identity.
Surrender and then return.