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Jan 2018
I stole you away from city lights
Yep held it in a brown balled paper bag
Drank in the words like liquor
I didn’t think anybody could see, really.
San Francisco stopped and got back on the treadmill
Made of silicon and now its gone

Beaded sweat of mind bleeds into the bay
I walked on the pier and teared up a little bit lip
The hills once covered in god are covered in another ones
I don’t know what to think of it at all

Grit the teeth against it and grind them to dust
Bite the tongue until it leaks sweet sanguine blood
I drink the wine and dine on the pain
And wish with all my dying heart to meet you again
But you are dead
Even the world you left is dead
And the minds of man are dying
Because they got way too mad of trying

Counter the counted counter-cultured counter-top
Endless sine of combating thought
I’ve walked to the golden-brown California hillcrop
And realized I stood on holy seasonal grassland genocide

With horror the minds withered United State Holodomor
Can I build a paper airplane to take away from here
In time you knew there was nothing here to fear
I cannot find it
Please help me find it

Your alley smells like **** and the taste of forlorn
Bay sits in hazy forever
The water still glitters god’s diamonds but it feels more like
A forgotten mound of coal
You cannot polish these timely souls
From bronze to something gold
If they do not want it

Men like you live to die
And we can pretend that there will be another to tell your place
But Socratic manners of speaking are banned
So too, will you be left on trial

The veil of night shines with roman jewels on an incandescent man-made interstate
I watch them sparkle in the receding mirror, all but the brightest remain
We built stars on our land and pretend they are god
And in a way they are
What poor representatives to those congresses of light
Impossibly far

So I must make do with the day we are born to
Speak words that mean worlds to you
And perhaps together we can reawake something
Disastrous after the soul, and open the I
Bryce
Written by
Bryce  M/San Francisco, CA
(M/San Francisco, CA)   
  618
       --- and Randolph Llewellyn Wilson
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