Sunday, April 25, 2010

45*21

for 4/20/10

The winds have come
banish all the faces of terror
There is no room for a belly in here
the earth turns and you can hear wheels
That sound represents the burning trees
along the gnome steps against the pond
When the light comes it is time to dine
The neon sign flashes this in our mirror
I can not think of a line
so then a circle is formed
the vinegary taste of a putrid soul
as he's carried down the rock ledge
all beings of existences have a purpose
but hell if I know where to find one
The burning of hopes is just a state of mind
or a rope ladder to climb the tower
If you fall off there will be a shower
of stars flaking from the midnight sky
Are hopes just a state of mind?
or are they the climb
round and round goes the carousel

with ECK

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