Where the eyes
Cannot see
The mouth can
Easily breathe

Taste the sea air
The wafer like despair
The blonde colored hair
The whiskey rye affair

Each notice of unpaid loan payments
Makes the hair on my fingers
Wilt like the last flower of winter
I am getting very tired of money

The heroes of lore are now
Portrayed in the silver screen of hollywood...
We are running out of ideas
History licks her lips in grim &
Celestial satisfaction

Where time doth not exist
Lies the truth

Where time does
We reside

The nakedness of the worm
Is much like our own
We cut and we squirm and
Live in the wet Earth until
We are found out by the raven

Then...

The scythe drops
Only to be reminded
Of the taste
Of our own blood

Each bullet shell
Is the cost of
A human mind

The legislature has
Been signed
Though who holds
The pen
Still stands a
Mystery of man

I have fun with these things
As do many others before me

Can you imagine
A world
Without any sense of direction?
Without purpose or reason?
Without distinction or detail?
A world with only thoughts
That change annually like the seasons?

A straight
Line

Has been
Done
Before

I see

The next step
Is

The only step
Worth

Taking