At random...
The screams of birds Breaching through The formal marble of the frame The weak will of the Thing The Thing Opened up With the dungeon The smell of pine wax Balancing time Further on The childish nightmares Of Fate People were sitting Like parrots On a juke-box Forgotten on the cliffs Drinking coffee Squeezing weak-willed passions From the conversation Sound asleep The Thing Opened up With child-like eyed mills Grinding All sorts of Death images Into images of Carnal love In the very core of The strive to live There is always someone More intent Than the Sea More vehement Than the shadow Which When breaching through Artificialdom of the frame Twangs like an arrow Let go At random *** Written March 5th, 2002 © on Mar 04 2002 07:51 PM PST 0 • 12
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"The screams of birds..."