Oak Leaves
Nigel Ayers
- 6:42
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And As my hands were behind my back I wrote one word on the envelope My face It was still soaked through With the golden leaves upon it Oak leaves Again he changed This time to create surplus flesh On his lean body His fingers shook slightly When others mentioned the bugs with long feelers A stop light goes on for self security He is aggressive Hundreds perhaps thousands of flux pods Were making their way Seizing the spray Far up A few hundred yards above the street lighting Closer to the wall It's true That is where they come from And the other things up the river Over a time variant Over fifteen hours Like leaves before the wind Looking down Perfectly still His ears breathing Gingerly grasped the edge of the hatch Hit it with a few small charges A stimulating effect And the lights thrust And the action had secrets Twenty-seven on her labia And a thick one was being applied to her clitoris So she decided to bide her time For the time being at least But something surely was doing things To his intuition intelligence and wisdom The second girl now approached him A naked girl Holding a handful of powder to the Southeast To the sodden forest below About ten years back The idols of old The false floppy discs were prolific The hiss heralded a menacing step forward Around and around What noise was unscrewed or pulled out for For Heaven is dusted with a bit of fat bottom rubble the ancient text messaging word patterns the grace of the children of the film cartridge I'll be shopping for the intelligentsia Greens into a riot of colour Across cryptographers smoking cigarettes Bow down the wall Profitable in business Certain of themselves It's designed that way Never went to the out fringes A row of metals across One thousand two hundred bowed nipples They stole it from his hands Paralysed from action by giant cryptographer Hoarding stolen ingots Storage banks Your trust isn't it kind of col No I haven't You would think that I don't blame you You're not the first At the same time I've told the best friend An imperfect child Whatever The motley assortment Of two or three dozen in the same place Grown from the tangled wreckage What's going on He's alone Books were scattered all over He was going to get swamped Frowned on On the far wall A patch of red light and useless decorations Secret photographs Pain sounds pleasure sounds Meant nothing From the window of the office I looked down And the streaming rain ran rusted guttering Turning to powder At the end of the line Slates had blown Heavy rainfall sprayed Levered aside the stones Pounded demolished houses Peeled off dragging Bobbing minivans along the water Surged back and forth Smashed dancers took running dives And began to writhe In a deep sea of leathery animals Genitals Objects Faces that meant nothing Tossed large slabs of stone Falling with bits of soil and sea everywhere Overflowed dropped drowning Birds guts flowers rats and mice Golden grave goods A length of splintered branch Human limbs Hunter and hunted Mixed deeper and deeper So deeply And he waited for it to subside And start a pattern To cause a shape to be formed High enough to stand in like a fortification Like thirty feet of cement chamber That reeked of bones and body odour Along one side there was a soggy flap It dripped its earthly grime Somewhat like a massive fountain pen At the other end There was what appeared to be a tiny square lens I'm checking to see That the plate is secure Things didn't look too good They're whispering Clothes will not be worn While the computers take over I kicked the door open Tiny particles of dust drifted upward Inside was an enormous protective web Clogged with shit Ancient shit Beatnik shit If I yelled It got stuck in my throat I turned away and as I turned Polycarbonate phlegm filtered the sunlight Beaming in through the windows I moved forward Barefooted in the wreckage That rose five stories Wooden crates filed in spirals Looked as if they had been standing there for years A wash basin Jig steps And the oddball characters Attract many flies Coughed up memories of the old ones Thousands prowl the laboratory It's on the map and in the vocabulary A sleeping animal fog drifted across the street River fog slurring social strata Different levels of wealth Races languages and cultures The elements whipped The powdered grime and thorny tentacles Moss and dandelions An ant's eye view Is not the only point of vantage Up close The buildings were even more grey and damp Windows and doors were securely shuttered silent Total silence To the noise To the sound
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"Oak Leaves Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 30 Apr. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/10580174/Nigel+Ayers/Oak+Leaves>.
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