About Me

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The Madman, "Yes, three days, three centuries, three aeons. Strange they would always weigh and measure. It is always a sundial and a pair of scales."

Saturday, November 22, 2014

THERE IS GRASS

There’s a shadow on my back
A beam of light creeping into my skin
A turning head echoing deep in the distance
I raise my arms
Disintegrate the earth
Celebrate a puff
There is grass
-
Grinding In the background
Memories cause heat from friction
A pain visible
Standing right before my shut eyes
There is slashing of arms
There is a no, unsaid
There is grass
-
Sliding down an incline of a thousand miles
Against the breeze
A cold slap of reality
Choking the poison in
Sending it burrowing
Into veins and nerves
There is smoke
There is flesh
There is grass
-
Gathering numbers
Multiplied into bright bombs of
Botched up countdowns
There is waiting
There is breath held
There is space
For more
Inhale a blizzard
There is grass
-
Nod your heads everybody
Synchronized stupidity
Silver shits
Summoned by the Supreme
Sitting, staring straight into Hell
There is the Divine
There is a farce
There are realities
There is grass
Not green, gray.