I dig dark desolate days,
the wet whimsical winds of wonder,
An amphibious amplitude aching.
I've ignored incoming inquiries,
Blasphemed blissful bishops and burned.
Tomorrow's tombs and today's tangled tabernacle,
I've cared constantly for charismatic critics,
Dreamed for days during dangerous deeds,
Falling for fools with fluttering faces.
Girl's giving graces;
Angel's antagony;
Love's lies.

09/21/2008

Posted on 09/21/2008
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