Chelsea Hotel & The Third Millenium
You are a skyscraper of the saints vagabonds
A mantra with red & black hair
Exploded in an acid trip highway
You are a raincoat for sweet paranoic human beings
with scapulars & sex loving gods
mattress tattooed magic trash gipsy cigarettes
Indian candles chocolate toys revolutionary coffee
Fountains of chess & fresh skins & freedom circus exciting
The psycho subway is always inside us
As the shaken lights are also inside
Prophecies & toilets sliding together
Thieves of silk & ugliness with pearls
Kitchens of dying tamburines & fools with flash eyes
The custumers are searching the very heart of Chelsea Hotel
Through a spaghetti vocabulary
The Unfinished is near us as a great winter
We are infected and happy in Chelsea Hotel
We are eating mystic pain and becoming soft donkies
Envolved in an electric kiss
There is no redemption anymore just a shamed vanished knowledge
Oooooh we languished for a luminescent leprosy
For a cosmic hospital where nothing is forbidden
& insanity is at free charge
& the wound is naked
& seduction is a turmoil
& nothing is nothing
& even the dust could be poetry
Neglection full with junkies
Here at Chelsea Hotel
The morphine portofolio of saints vagabonds
In exchange for a magnified life
And for the sainthood of cinnamon and transfusions
All the famous people with convalescent brains are here in Chelsea Hotel
Because to be here is a concept of life
& a snakeskin inside a Polaroid camera
Because to be here is a black-and-white shaped whirlwind
Across all the bridges & runaways & lepidopterian abductions
& esoteric doll rooms & nonsocial working butterflies.
(Here I stayed eating a mountain of shrims with Andrew The Neworlishire Cat talking near Babylon in the new millennium. But there were no crows or barbarians.)
0 Responses to “Chelsea Hotel”