Thursday, July 17, 2008

there can be no rest

O find me here
Look under the never-passing night, it's hot and the moon is mostly full, and you got enough time out here where the lights are now encroaching but still a ways away, you can see em in the distance in a straight line from one side of the horizon to the other,
Find me here,
Where you can write in the moon's bright blue cast, and even at night the shadows fall off of you and onto the ground,
where old buildings and old fences cry desperately to stay standing, prop em up here and there as they need it, and soon everything is coming many memories...
Find me here, amidst falling words that I swear I'll never look at again out of spite, but I know I will, until a Narcissus grows up maybe, maybe just there's something in here that's got wings and soars...
Shed yourself of the rest of society's trappings, the trappings of words, and style and grammar and posture...
Why dontya sit up straight, nobody likes nobody who slouches

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