Showing posts with label poem 37. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem 37. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

the art of making dances

in the world there is no animal, human, molecule of water
that moves without a reason for moving
always with a specific design in space
with a relationship to everything that moves around it
and a particular energetic flow and rhythm
fast for hot
etc

Without all that
your dance sucks
and let's be honest
there's a lot of sucky art out there
this bit
not withstanding.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Red #26

I came back wearing red lipstick
I wanted you to know I had changed.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Green On Red

Everyone lives
On some sort of island

Death and angels
On the ground

There’s incoming sound
And the man up front
Moves all the time

He’s frantic, dehydrated
He’s the captain but
He's got no authority

Death and angels
On the ground.