We're dancing in a dreamscape of Dali clocks and limes there's cube-cheese and fresh green grapes and discussions of true crime Life flutters in the milkweed orange, white, and black through the shutters there's a silkscreen by the artist Halifax Hear the TV in the kitchen its tuned into cable news In the bedroom someone's bitchin about Kidman and Tom Cruise We skinny dip with time we're drowning in her wake get tangled in the vines at the bottom of the lake Our transience prevails no matter what we do sleepwalking on the trails along the avenue Cut by the sculptor's chisel we lie bleeding on the sand the eye-spark starts to fizzle when time grips us by the hand We live on as dusty photos in grainy videos online YouTube provides a mojo transcending the sublime tell me what we're doing cuz I haven't got a clue alabaster armless statues on burnt lawns of Timbuktu We skinny dip with time we're drowning in her wake get tangled in the vines at the bottom of the lake Our transience prevails no matter what we do sleepwalking on the trails along the avenue
