In my featherless, sagging, saffron wings,

I dance



My Phoenician, waterlogged, orchestrated and forty foot wings

Wave in the air

I am drunk laying against the striped table

Pushing these banners into the airless beach

Waving these flags as i murmur the recipes of prayers to the vendors

And the pharisees in bikinis pumping iron against the sun



The recipes of semitic vendors, egyptian vendors

Shaking their backs against the sun

Laughing with the sounds of sheets of metal

Splashing the naked pharisees

With wild bikinis and the soft fragrance

Of dreams

And morning



I walk on the beach looking for a place to sleep

My arms are hidden beneath my sailing skin

I am broke and fucked up and i fall in the sand

And sleeping in the warm cradle of a billion rocks



I dreamed of cher

She came to us in babylon

And she was rattling fluently

Her true language

And she was dressed in high syrian rags

Her face had white powder on it and there were

Little brown moons beneath her eyes

And i saw into her

An arabic women parading around naked

Powerful, irreverent but still after all

Doing it the old egyptian way

With sparkling clothes and force



Now i awake in the afternoon

The arcade is filled with children

Families are walking by staring at me

Pre-pubescent faces are coming a little too close

I don't even remember if i have on any underwear



I get up and walk away

I never even knew this stuff was here

The twirling music, the games, the money

This commune living sucks

These black panthers suck

These harmonica players

Should all go back to the north

Canada, new jersey, where ever they do that

Blowing



-aca