You, the lone fool
smoothed to an arrow,
tumultuously alone.
Wings taught, eyes
wind-burnt ablaze,
irresolutely afloat
in the sickening sky
awaiting the foulest of storms.
You, the lone fool
bobbing gently on the breeze.
Fat puppy gut – fish full
hauls you to rest
on the softened sands
eyeing lesser birds
harp-harking for tossed chips
like obstreperous clowns.


Listen

 

You now have a violent exteriorExistential

You now have a violent exterior

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The People’s Pond
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The People’s Pond

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Notes from End of the Road FestivalMusic

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