THERE are soft fields which
no mind has painted
but hearts (which are really
always not human) run through
the tall grass as brushed nudes
and life is short but tall canvases
which where-by and bye our (h(e))ARTS
give some meaning.
And there is a sky so high
as deep as Soul erasing ignorance
from all minds inflamed by the minor
length of our traveled roads.
Is it not always short; the hello, goodbye,
love, hate and
a burning fire called Life!
:: 07-25-2015 ::
IF AN ANT I COULD CRAWL
if an ant
i could crawl away
unseen
if the boss walks
he sees
and crushes me
under the heel
and i hate authority
–if we could get along
we push the walking boss
out the window
and i love you
and i get lost
in all corporate law
i say burn the paper
and rewrite it in love
and i lov eyou!
so get it on with
that smile π
no need for a walking
boss //insect swarm!
attacking smaller animals
and bosses are MICROPENIS’
PSEUDO males looking for
approval–saddest greek
tragedy AND FUCK YOU!
AND WOMEN in authority?
well, that’s another poem!
:: 07-23-2015 ::
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