Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Spider dance.

Spiders in the trees, silken waterdrops on the leaves, intricate fractal patterns lacing the skies, behind your eyes, in front of the moon. Delicate, weaving in and out of time with the power of their spindly legs and their hypnotizing melodies, gently humming in oh-so-perfect beat with the grass as it sways, backwards and forwards, gaia's rythem. The black hole rears back, hackles raised, teeth bared as it threatens to devour you, always five metres away from the centre, while the grey matter sings you to sleep as it rocks you in it's arms. The spiders chuckle, sick and sweet, luminous rays highlighting their membranes, salvia divinorum, lizards bathing in the searing sunlight, awakened from dreams of earthquakes and retro dresses. A little bird with fluro feathers darting in and out of your peripheral vision, while the bark melts in to the shape of your lover. The flowers wish you good morning as their petals spread into nothingness, a weak everglow contorting the way the spider moves, now pitter-patter, pitter-patter across the glowing water, sailing by on the damp leaves, downstream, rockaby. Little fingers grasp at the memories eluding you, and place them somewhere deep in your veins, glass digging into the soles of your feet, the soul of your feat. Happy-go-lucky, smiley-glad-hands, little boy blue and bo beep's shotgun wedding in the middle of the hill, house of cards and glass. Matchbox. White rabbit. Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full. Mix it, blend it, stir it until it is a deep, black, citrus-to-the-eyes potion and dabble in black magic for a while with the popcorn birth certificate. Honey-soaked sheets making love to the chemtrails. Silly little girl, outside on the rooftop, marrying the boy with the violin and the black cat. Hatchet-hands, making dents in the walls where the spraycans thrived. Red, blue, red, blue. Flashing lights and disco nights. Sipping on the misery. Deep inside the serpents lair, dragon snare, adventurer beware. Gold. Silver. The spider continues to ascend, up into the sky. Humming, dancing, wicked two-step on your tongue. Open your eyes, the spiders wove the universe.

2 comments:

  1. Dude, there are some KILLER lines in here, especially towards the end.

    The word play, the rhymes, the nursery rhymeness... This is so my thing.

    If only I could understand the plot? Or... did you lose it? ;D

    ReplyDelete