Tuesday, July 20, 2010

45*21

I still listen to Tobin Sprout
His voice, like cold cucumbers
the references are just as they are
a building with two sides
a walkway in between
You will never understand what I already can't
So now maybe you are the one that is right
Nobody really wants to be right
That's just a false mind
Good jokes, the one without punchlines
You and I have grown inside
invisible cities with lustrous gardens
the alabaster nurse takes the temperature
I bear teeth in between false statements
get down on all fours to pull the fish in
This is our substantive life?
I'll live it without you if I have to
I'd prefer not
But as the mind is a constantly questioning concept
I'm not smart enough to convince you
what the mind is not saying

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