driven dumb-eyed
by the pulse of sounds
screeching thoughts
reach our inner dos.

(down, down, down
to the earth-led blues)

the masks of hands
approach with a soft touch,
pulling off
the greatest coups.

(down, down, down
to the earth-fed blues)

set in motion, the train of throes
plays god with a notion
of snowball-lows.

06/03/2010

Posted on 06/03/2010
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