Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Tuesday, October 23, 2012 (While listening to Captain Beerheart)

 I’m starving the carbon that flows within.

Mines are removing mountain tops and
the poor vote against their best interests.

Who’s watching who? Who cares?

Naked children run across a still lake,
laughing and crying, floating forever.

When the many false faces of existence
are peeping-toms, mirrors are dust.

Who has the original Trout Mask?
It seems all we have is replicas.


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