I'm standing in the wind.
We had five years left to cry,
stay in, get things done.
But don't change the power to charm.
It's all artifice.
That's why we have television.
Press your space close to mine,
lay the real thing on me,
and spit in the eyes of fools.
Let's dance for fear
in this serious moonlight,
I turn myself to face myself
[like some cat from Japan]
where things are hollow
in the stream of impermanence.
My brain hurts like a warehouse.
It's not my favorite thing to do.
No, it's just what I do.
So how could they know?
- Modern Love
- Moonage Daydream
- Rebel, Rebel,
- Five Years
- Life on Mars
- Let’s Dance
- Ziggy Stardust
- David Bowie’s answers to the Proust Questionnaire
- David Bowie On The Ziggy Stardust Years: 'We Were Creating The 21st Century In 1971'.
Shloka Shankar is a freelance writer from Bangalore, India. She loves experimenting with Japanese short-forms of poetry, as well as found/remixed pieces alike. Her poems have most recently appeared in After the Pause, Jazz Cigarette, Under the Basho, Right Hand Pointing, Failed Haiku, and so on. Shloka is the founding editor of the literary & arts journal, Sonic Boom.
I have never slaughtered a pig.
My hands, though slathered with a sheen
Of melted flesh, are swiftly cleaned
With a simple paper towel.
The cottonwood trees watch. Whisper. A
lyrical business, theirs. Bored by the Wind
River, they turn toward the termite-nibbled
The Pacific begs me to swim away, anything
to keep us from strangling each other
on the boardwalk. The Freakshow
is where our love belongs, a two-headed
oddity feasting on dust and bone
This is how pleasure goes marauding
thinking twenty was happy
thinking faces you won’t believe
wrapped in a smell of hand
When she reeked of distraction, a dozen fools
set out to decant her childhood.
You work with doll pieces and cigar
boxes. Mirrors reflect limbs
suspended on toothpicks.
It’s easy to forget how weird Elvis was, sitting in the Atlanta airport on a Sunday morning, Viva
Las Vegas on every screen,
lined up at the bar with fellow travelers recently notified that alcohol is not for sale until 12:30 this afternoon.
Come chill with me and watch a show
Tonight, whenever, I don't know;
We'll listen to the new J. Cole,
And I will judge your nipple mole
look back, look back
you will be Rorschach
a print of a man
She’s not my aunt by blood,
so I’ve a chance to taste her.