Saturday, June 4, 2011

The angels speak

Crawling through speakers
And chemical elixers
I found myself in a gold mine of personal fortune
The angels appraised me that I had forsaken my duties
But there cries were sweet in that high tone that angels speak to one another in, more like singing....

Under the old maps I had saved before the invention of electronic directions
There was the sound of a tree just standing
The leaves were licking the bark
The moon shone
The blinking of the planets distracted me

If you've lived in a place where all you smell is hot concrete
The wind in your face is a welcome reprieve
It's like God talking to you.

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