Nov 24, 2004 17:26
Apparently this shuffle-foot rhythm of comes and goes on a semi-regular basis became so distant-
I forgot to stir the soup.
In other words: Hey, it is time to say hello again.
*
That wet mass that hangs in the sky is and are could be
the cotton balls off aspirin tops downing what we thought was
the national (stately) anthem.
Light weight side storage keeps-a-close by on the overhead while
this man, he says
ticket please.
I'm the wanted, caught forced through insoles to out souls
the haircut thought it found me,
but check out yours.
Alright okay you wind blown waif
the held with pursed lips and stolid bricks beneath
because because because
I can
this willing counterpart that cannot part
the distance left with wayside glances
swimming reflect curbside
red leaf right lead onto mischief
in a town of relevant revelations
forlorn forgotten due to closed eyes,
but not a ruling
default
way
to
wink and trespass-
one eighth note at a time in perfect unison.
***
Post Script:
Last call for confidential confide-ins;
I have one,
who's got milk?