The universe that i know contains infinite infinities
The more i travel the more i see and more you think

There's an abyss of abraxas in dylan dog's comics
Here's an enstraged ghost of che on the motorcycle

We made it plausible for the pagat ultimo's elegance sake
We seek for the most Beautiful to crash us like soft waves

The immortal Beauty is the terror for the mortal passangers
The immortal Elegance is shown as an unforgettable life's style

You want the depth, you play games, cast spells, and reinvent
You want to become a persona grata, the gravity ***** you in

Today i thougt how nice is to draw a bit for a change
Today you didn't like to have hollidays from a belief

I have to acknowledge the worthwile sands of time
I have to succumb to universal subconsciousnesses

Mine unimportance is a hanging shall on a tied stallion
Mine thoughst fly high as two falcons toward your star

Thine tea is served with blood, sweat, and entrapement
Thine turtle is a giant alive planet, a colourful mounted

One

Time is a clock,
a face no-one forgets, a
stopwatch on a stiff wrist
beneath crisp white cotton,
a feral black cat in the woods
of adulthood that sneaks
up on you in your prime,

or something like that.

He is
walking the white line
his arm a repetitious arc
sounding a single tone
timed to the pace
of hiking-boot feet
treading the pavement.

Saffron robes have grayed
over long meditative miles
witnessed by curious commuters
riding the pendulum away
from his purposeful daily counterpoint
the freedom held
in rhythmic ritual

how the mind stills and gathers
in the swinging blur of hand and stick.

I roll the window down
seeking precious solace
as I hurtle past
knowing
he walks for me too
I want to stop the car
fall in behind

feel the timeless drum
the stillness of salvation.