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"whathe" poems
War is warning of chaos if the dragon is slain, whathe-el, yes, god, yes, we have a myth for for this, for now, a metaphor, aforethought, it is that Promethean redemption, aha, the sun goes down, let the healing begin, this is a classic, not every inspiring thing has origins in a book. Word, gramma say, way back, -- reminds me, I put gas in the Prius today, as I walked in to buy some papers, in the little store where the **** bays was, back when I first heard Johnny Cash, thinking' he was some kinda man in black, from assorted darkness legends, I hear him singin' I fell in to a burnin' rang o' fire, went down down, the flames shot higher… I was about seven… **** bays was where hot-rodders and cruisers hung out, if you grew up on a paved road to California and Nevada, at a junction in time and space, ~ 150-170 miles south of all the tests, same winds that brang rain t' St. George… The moment, the music, a crossover hit, hallelujah, like -- reminds me, as I walked in to buy some papers, in the little store where the young Chaldean manning the store hears me, as I -- say, ********* HAHA, as I re-cogitate the first bars of I walk the line, then I see the guy behind the sneeze, wall agree, I love this music, we both say, and he goes on to say, I wonder what it was like to be alive when he was alive… I swipe my card and say, it was like being alive when I was alive. like -- reminds me, mark that fact - you spoke to an old man buying papers, this is the future, did you never read of the last being first? the boy bade me have a nice day. So I did.
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Nov 3, 2020
Nov 3, 2020 at 8:31 PM UTC
kenpepiton
Election night and Johnny Cash
War is warning of chaos if the dragon is slain, whathe-el, yes, god, yes, we have a myth for for this, for now, a metaphor, aforethought, it is that Promethean redemption, aha, the sun goes down, let the healing begin, this is a classic, not every inspiring thing has origins in a book. Word, gramma say, way back, -- reminds me, I put gas in the Prius today, as I walked in to buy some papers, in the little store where the **** bays was, back when I first heard Johnny Cash, thinking' he was some kinda man in black, from assorted darkness legends, I hear him singin' I fell in to a burnin' rang o' fire, went down down, the flames shot higher… I was about seven… **** bays was where hot-rodders and cruisers hung out, if you grew up on a paved road to California and Nevada, at a junction in time and space, ~ 150-170 miles south of all the tests, same winds that brang rain t' St. George… The moment, the music, a crossover hit, hallelujah, like -- reminds me, as I walked in to buy some papers, in the little store where the young Chaldean manning the store hears me, as I -- say, ********* HAHA, as I re-cogitate the first bars of I walk the line, then I see the guy behind the sneeze, wall agree, I love this music, we both say, and he goes on to say, I wonder what it was like to be alive when he was alive… I swipe my card and say, it was like being alive when I was alive. like -- reminds me, mark that fact - you spoke to an old man buying papers, this is the future, did you never read of the last being first? the boy bade me have a nice day. So I did.
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