Monday, May 12, 2014

poetry is a good brain excercise...

Enveloped in the room by all the space between electrons, protons, and neutrons (etc,) as the space between electrons, protons, and neutrons (etc,) working in fields of strong localized and weak cross-dimensional forces, I and I listen to ghost radio of void transmissions...

You can even begin to fathom the dark side of the sun and the sunnyside up of the street cracked and running on sentences in a prison of words in New Balance in short shorts or really really short pants (she said, "you bring me closer to Donald Duck")...

I think yr apathetic but you really can't be bothered to care one way or the other, so I steal yr shoelaces and put thumb tacks in yr texty thumbs. Open up like a hand like fingers spreading outward to inward winds blowing up skirts and through oaks, cranking up the corners...

Be the best no one you can can!

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