March 2010
mother bird
cant find her fledgling
her voice is horse it neighs and cant sing
forgot who she was for a second quite sad
but her child is us
bury them in the sand
then castles and gods shall spring forth from the lake
the dreaming world lives each second youre awake
guess what children
you are everything here
the things you can see and what wont appear
molecules of dust,
atoms and the like
the water
your fort
and the chain on your bike
“The point is that rapport with the marvelously purposeless world of nature gives...”
language
dont curr it dont matter if you dont know what im saying long as you kinda sorta get where im getting at yaimeen?
totalitarian or democratic?
both make sparks fly, both cause loud static
makes some wannna panic, makes them wanna grab it
makes me wants to get up, get out, and get at it
now im in my attic
looking for the spot where i hid my automatic
now stop…
hit the nearest casin’
ask for all the chips bitch
and give me all of your cream
because i cannot rest or sleep without all of...
everything can happen
HHHHhhhhmmmMMM...
