Friday, 11 June 2010

The Process

ideas buzz like horny bees
waiting for release
stirring pollen so dense and rich,
it glitters like honey in the sun.

everything leaks
flowing into one other,
like swarms
caught in revolving doors
at Bloomingdale's.

lost manners, forgotten patience
a sea of painted faces
start to resemble identical clowns
marching in a parade

stuck in a video
that's on repeat
pause and play
play and pause

ideas move forward
like a stalled car
keys turn, engine reeves,
clutch chokes,
but it jerks slightly,
like a massacred chicken.

ideas latch onto door knobs
pulling wide-knit sweaters back,
releasing the thread
so that you stumble
onto something good,
something made great
by your clumsiness.

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