The eyes of the bird fold with no sharp corners
and the mind
and the mind
swims like an eel in an empty head.
The nihilism grows
like toenails.
The sky pushes emotions in another direction.
A man with the face of a coin
seeks eloquence in his misfortunes
but inevitably falls into
the mist of a glue stick.
What trends are we following?
The basic concept
of the terrified eagle
is stuck in our throats
the beak of intellignece
is resonating like wheels
on the legs of a tangled shoestring
I am not sad
there is simply smoke in my eyes.
Poor Argus
I can empathise
but the intricacy of a peacocks feather
deserves more light
I rid my nose of all this paper
and smell the lavender.
The person who isn't here
is certainly somewhere else.
There is irony connected to our differences
in the search for equillibrium.
The universe is quite content
in the shell of a tortoise
that is neither thankful nor patient.
The space between your nose and my eye.
The ether simply ripples
like an aimless limb.
Everything else is insignificant.
Thursday, 9 September 2010
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