Drifting in a Sea Much Like Land
This is an ode to the man who kneels constantly in an ocean of his own foliage His wrapping coming undone An orange coming out of a peel that only bobs on the surface This is for that foliage Existence & suicide & pink flamingos Everything that was on his front lawn The crayon drawings on his wall Drawn by a child in a man's body If there is ever that day when the sun explodes If there is ever that day when California sinks much like the clouds in Britain You will still see him in the hull of his black submarine Sailing through the foliage Through his own awareness of time His orange licking hungrily at the surface Never to reach land Written August 17th, 2001 © on Aug 17 2001 12:15 PM PST, Katrina Armour 0 • 10
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"This is an ode to the man who kneels constantly in an ocean of his own ..."