improbable cows and cathartic writing

I'm hyper and manic and stressed today

There may be more to it, not much left to say

(mainly caus its been said again and again.

No phone call yet, ill you know if and when)

So.

I'm hyper and manic and stressed today

There may be more to it, not much left to say

An orchestrated hyper- half-speed thought before I act

larger than life congeneality- exagerated gestrures- infact

those extrapolated, manicated moves of thos mad for true

although what is mad for me, may not be mad for you...

And her, she? Well she just sits there as life whiles away

the parrot on my shoulder, her thoughts mine, she may

just be a construct of this poem- attempted escape from own cliches

but i'm running out of steam, not much left, and so she sways

Comfortably numb.

- never understood the phrase-

but maybe now i do

Comfortabky

not thinking

of me. and of you

Of us-

and the U.S.

and how it all went wrong

and the parrot on my shoulder? well she just burst into song

Whilst spieing my wierd legs (that look so dry yet feel so smooth)

Those legs? well they just went, upped and moved

down to torres del paine, to run jump and play

bored being my little sahara, just watching parrots sway

so i waved them goodbye- ill miss them its true

they left on the night bus- my new pair is bruised black 'n blue

and hidden and hairy and slightly uptight

though they loosened at the party and now they took flight

swinging upside down on a trapeze in the sky

as my eyes looked up from down below, wondering why

the camera hadnt shown up- to capture swinging light against inky blue

as an improbable cow jumped over us all - its last lament a solemm moo.

This is the first poem of the April-May 08 series.

Having come back from a failed 10 day trip to try and sort things out with an ex, things felt liek they were falling out at the seams but, you know, in a good way, kind of.

It got me writing again!