Thursday, April 05, 2012

everything dead in the next two seconds

walking to unsigned unassigned unassignated musics
though different generations we are as brothers
I was so out of it it was all power games think of pine trees

spreading like vermin down the hillsides
our faces flecked with blood and mucus
but this this ... don't be so scared, trust something
a little anarchy is cool every day
oats and sugar and the representations of all parties
imagine not being scared any more
the scarcity of dialogue this process has no feet or follicles
it all came out of the sky one night nothing nothing
this is religion your self-analysis is equivalent
to an imaginary being who creates frogs who eat foxes
by some miracle of the roadside you came running
to have small wounds tended your hat too tight
your head too big your soul whatever somehow
just bursting from your little Hawaiian shirt

not even slightly scared, not really


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