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 Aug 2012 Rhian Jona
dj
We've got nothing to do &
Nowhere to go

It's a quiet late afternoon
An orange ambient sky
+ you & I

Under the oak tree in
My family's ranch

Coming from toxic homes and
Chemical airs and dying American dreams

Coming from crying-baby apartments
And alcohol-bottle floors

Both laying down here thinking we
Hadn't had a fair chance

Until we found each other.

And as the sun sinks into the land
Our shade spreads out everywhere

And as the cars create a muffled roar
Just past the tree-line,
I think,

"Maybe one day we'll be
Anywhere but here"
a story
the
     sky
           was
can    dy    lu
minous
            edible
spry
        pinks shy
lemons
greens    coo    1 choc
olate
s.

  un    der,
  a    lo
co
mo
      tive        s  pout
                               ing
                                     vi
                                     o
                                     lets
O sweet spontaneous
earth how often have
the
doting

            fingers of
prurient philosophers pinched
and
poked

thee
,has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy

      beauty       .how
often have religions taken
thee upon their scraggy knees
squeezing and

buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
gods
        (but
true

to the incomparable
couch of death thy
rhythmic
lover

          thou answerest


them only with

                          spring)

— The End —