I cant shut Miller up

I cant shut Miller up

hes a voluptuary who talks incessantly

vivaciously  

to keep up with him I fire synapse after maddening synapse into the air

through the rib-vaulted ceiling that is my skull and from it bolts of shivering light 

peer down through the cordite smoke and tickle its floor

                                                                                           and looking up from the batshit 

pinholes blink like nuclear stars and inbetween on wrinkled sheets of tissue projections 

are cast by reels and reals of purple memory blue experience and yellow 

unrealised possibilities

I run my hands through my hair

the light shudders

motes of dust are stirred

I want to fall back to sleep and I imagine I am dreaming in my bed beside my lover

her warm breath at my cheek my breath on her breasts

sleep deep sleep

but his voice sonorously washes across the chords of my nerves and their intone and vibrations are irresistible

they writhe like slick serpents on tines of wet grass or blind earthworms burrowing to evade 

the ivory beaks of famished birds

I cant shut him up

I cant

I also wont shut him up 

his fast phantoms break between a blink of an eye and the scarce clue I have that they were even there are their dull irradiated shadows evaporating on the film of my eye

like the scent of fresh water in the desert or the faint rose smell of a feminine ghost

0106,  Saturday,  20  10. 12