My words do me no justice,
a philosopher
with no knowledge
in his bed.
LYRIC!
Inspired again?
Nothing new, my arc,
it’s missing.
Shhh...
Time to sleep.
My dreams percolate
lost entity of belief,
and the wind blows:
gravity’s arm lifting
me from the ground
placing me gently, back
on acid trails
amidst candy dried sound.
Patiently I wait
counting days like seconds.
- Oct 4, 2003