Whereforto Ye Wanderers

Whereforto Ye Wanderers.



Monday, September 21, 2009

nothing out of nothing

red headed hoodies facing phantom mirrors and a cold shower angel who was gone after only six words if love is how You picture it, i guess i dont even have to say to you the words which you have already seen, the image is constantly flashing the action keeps on happening, what is happening?
the rhythm of ancient chirps are brought on by an instinct
but the range of our vocabulary is reaching silence in a new speak of easy squeegees wiping out
our brain leaks fleeting is the image of our existance collages of resistance in a college building up but only out of epilogues there was no story just a page worth of what came after because
we all know how it goes anyway.
when did you stop loving me?when did i start loving you?
these are the wrong questions.
i pushed you gently in the hallway at the top of the stairs saying do not do this i will not do this i walked down a flight of stairs asking no questions and knowing no one thing except that you probably didnt sleep so well and i probably didnt sleep at all, but neither one of us really knows cause we lay on different floor boards with different company now.
this is the middle.
of what i do not know. America? Earth? the oyster which i did not find you as my pearl?
this is the middle.
of what i do not know.
but we're moving out of it in whatever way feels right to us, i will see you in the end, and i see you now. and i'm taking into account that all the math we've scribbled on floorboards and corn rows and billboards and railroads and more dirty hairy body parts than we could've asked for will
add up to imaginary calculations however very real accumaltions of a life which we created out of nothing. nothing out of nothing out of nothing out of nothing.


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