Sunday, September 13, 2009

Down by the river.

I stared in the eye
of a facsimile man
and saw
nothing to mourn
except
my
own
insidious
belief
that I
could never
be Him.

I hung my head
for
a moment
and
understood
that the
delicate flowers
beside the headstone
would wilt
and die
in their own
time.

Pretty though...
(a sad smile here)

So laying
to rest
those
carbon
dating
copies
I thank
myself
for
another taste
(a rock n' roll
memory here, a hopeful, warm grin)
of
this
Big
Rainbow
Funhouse
of Cosmic
Brutality.

Peace. x

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