chain on a theme by The Cookies

chains my baby’s got me wrapped up in chains

and they ain’t the kind that you can see;

what you can see is wrapped in an enigma inside a shadow

of sound, shadow that rattles around in the cupboard

a cupboard filled w fully-grown skeletons reach ‘n’ rattling

a rattling that unnerves the ear’s nerves like a slit moment:

moments creep into the possible outrageous evening

and evening rips into the stillness where yr words tumble:

tumbling, aimless murders turn marketable and blind

& blindness wriggles thru the city wrapped up in chains,

my baby’s got me wrapped up in chains & they ain’t

the kind you can see, just hear, like hearing the

neighbors in a mirror

technical chain

technically, they’ve got a city built out of girders and tears

tears move up on the statue’s face in the slow freezing summer heat

summer heat flings round all my blown-up images

images map out who you are w inharmonic involvement

involvements grab your cluster of memories with a sluggish violence

violence moves across the alley in the mind & in the shut eye

a shut eye slants across shadow w mild surprise

mild surprise twists the compressed day in a fumbled usage

usages keep painting bars and barriers over the streets of walkers

& walkers look back, in the date, in the day, in the dream, technically;

technically, they’ve got a city here that tears itself down

chain on what you see

everything you see streaks down the sky and explodes

explosions rip foam lack fabric near slim loaf slit

slitting causes the air to spew into another dimension

dimensions border on each other’s time lines like jagged glances

glancing,  the jazz master jogged all the way to maybe the framework

frameworks divide the sky till the city has wild seasons

& seasons leap and frown where the tools allow you to unbuild,

unbuilding        everything you see