Rubbish
The eyes in the box
The thoughts in the night
All watchers take warning
We run from the light
To the depths of the drawers
Insufferable, misserable
Calamity strikes
Over glass-calm waters.
Shake a stick
Shake a leg
Get a move on
Run to the hills
Flee to the mountains
And never return
Till the hills are drained dry
And our work here is done.
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
Fatherhood
I am carrying the torch you Handed me Not handed. Placed Carefully This is sacred space. Was the carrying so heavy for you as well? Were yo...
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It must have been love That sort of thing Can't be mistaken For a lesser set of feelings It has a special hat And makes you welcome at p...
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She shares the blame For Adam's fall So secure, attractive Brilliant in a certain view The essence of Enlightenment I see her raise her ...
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I’m tired I’m tired of my heart giving out Whenever it gives in That things being the same Never makes a difference Of looking forwards to s...
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