Dec 21, 2012 12:42
Steam-kettle thinking
I'm not in the mood for
swift wishful sinking
Smudge on the blacktop
semicolon dot dot
Tell me what your meaning is made of
the etching that describes
my indolence,
my frazzled brain
turned to mush
Just like they said it would.
Don't let the gates age you
Untwist & pick padlocks
that stand ground around you
Alive in progression;
we have no choice
but to propel a voice-box
over the noise.