The Journal of Curt Allday

Cyberpunks in the Morning (breakfast buffet)
07/01/2005 03:10 p.m.

pouring from the sky,
the epicenter of mourning
redeems itself in his eyes

the head somewhat ruffled
peeled back
as each atom swirls through eyelids
awakening him from

but under the fashions of sheets
crawling through the branches
reaching over his face licking the
language creeping from his mouth
another dream beckons
and awakens the sirens copulating
on moss covered rocks
whispering seductions as the
victim twirls in his bed
reaching and rubbing
scrubbing and sacrificing
the new born day a figment
of imagination

a fortune left as a fingerprint
in his mind's eye

the eyes too muddy trying to focus

the netherworld of the brain
a temptation lost again to time

leaves him breathless, deciphering:
how will he ever know what if it is real
when the world is chemical, calculated,
and cold
I am currently Odd
I am listening to Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah

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