Stretched tight
on wires of our own miscalcualtion
biding time
where bridges to the future
are crumbled madness
singing grey-green songs
of what might have been.

I could not hold you
I could not pull you
from the whirlpool.

(the jagged boulders below
weep red into the foam)

the white light of passion
and the blood lust that boiled
became the rabid dog
that shrieked and howled
into the darkness
eclipsing the moon
and turning shadows
into hungry pools that
drank all reason.

dusty roads that lead to nowhere
and rainslick streets
that leak rainbows into gutters
resurrect the dead weight of reality
to leer knowingly into neon wishing wells
as blind and naked we wander
pasted haphazard against this backdrop
of brilliant cold stars..

Our rivers were raging
and sucked and swirled at each of us
pulling us beneath the surface
again and again,
casting us limp upon strange shores
then throwing us back together
to clutch each to the other
in desperate attempt
at salvation
at survival
as screaming junkie demons
chanted litanies
and laid the altar
for the burning of tomorrow.

I could not hold you
I could not pull you
from the whirlpool
of your own creation
of your own destruction

...............or did I simply
.........let you
....go

phantom...(c) WLA 11-16-2000