Thursday, October 2, 2008

{1000 YEARS NATIONS JUDGED}

Traces Of Those Deep Cuts,
Lie Thickly Upon 

Some Desolate Avenue.

You Were More Beautiful
Than Anything In This World.


Until That Day.

What Happens From This Day Forward.
That Seems To Be 

The Whispered Question.

And When Does It End?
Watching Timepieces
That We Call Watches.

Do They Watch Us?

When I Am Heard,
And What I Say Is Solely Explanatory.
And If You Want An Argument
Then Disagree With It.

You're Always Blurring The Terrain.
From Observations
Laying On The Ground.
Watching Their Bellies Bloat.

You're Minds Out Cold,
Instantaneously.
Not Where Lamps Are Lit.
Writhing Their Stunted Limbs
On The Matter Of Snow
Here Both Of Us Have Grasped.
And Her Chosen Square Of Worlds.
Even As They Walk Around.

Still, Snow Haze 

Gleams Like Sand.
But You Think 

Your So Much 
Better Than That.

From The Museums

My photo
Brooklyn, NY, United States
EVERYTHING.