I still can't stand this constructed coffin
Often it compresses
Thoughts, lost, because
We slow the flow, the mind
Into time, meter, the speaker
Must measure the weight of a feather
Between syllables, subliminals hide
I chide those who miss the point
I'd rather just drop words, absurd, confused, abused, worked, stress, best, chest, heart, stop, start, plot, point, eye, I, end
Thursday, October 8, 2009
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