sometimes when you are a frigid bastard

when i'm stoned and you're cold
i take a ride in the mind mines
run till the screams scatter
and the stars are smudged dull
underneath my cold toes


then i jump down to words
which scramble in chaos
and my thoughts overlapping
over every reason whistles,
a story of their own


somewhere in the hot bubbles
of cold water, i sense myself
so loudly that i am unleashed
under and above every bit of
sharp desire turning flat


when my vivid abstractions
dipped in green confuse you
galore, i bounce back to lay
next to your limp hands
and wish they'd run me moist