Monday, October 24, 2011

Poem for Speculative Pharaohs

A great free--
Soul for rent, faculty
trembled as those light score-board-speckled pamphlets about the audacity of disembodiment rippled in the palm wine tannins tempting culty ever since types: sycophants, climbers, to mercilessly reveal how time hurts in the speed of how you see in no time
What I'm trying say-- how you see it so and numb it total, patiently, trial after stoic trial until a child must exist. The inevitability of where we roam is where we get to. Shy arrivance accused of privilege and compliments until the circles got huge like black continent free souls for rent and we went on wanting
Obedience, to convince itself, of itself, but it didn't and so on and so on and 'all songs are crazy'