Get up and drink
Wouldn't that
Be funny
But we live in a world
That runs on money
The thing is that that means
What We create
Is based on the workings
Of what you call hate.

On a small boat
Made from
My own thought
I sail the river
Of my breath
Until the thought
That I brought
Dissolved gently
Into a thoughtless sea
Sailing, oh sailing!
To a thoughtless sea
Row, row, row my boat
Without thinking
Anything within me
The river of my breath
Has now taken me
To the very depth
Of a thoughtless sea

I’d like the silence to be louder
But I can still hear everything else.
I’d like to hear the wind blowin through some dandelions.
Maybe some butterflies in the distance sittin on some flowers
To hear a bird gently land on that picket fence
To listen to the rose petals blow in the soft wind
I wanna hear the camp fire crackle and grow
Listen to all the quiet things we miss out on
No one wants to hear the day to day.
Everyone wants to hear the peace.

My fox of the hedgerows has silver white fur
a sleek and dangerous cunning cur,
nails like needles, teeth like splinters
I’ve heard him howl these many winters