Often trees are conductors of the absolute, the sidereal cuss
eternity. the blow escapes the rehab and into the fire as known
but
lost coupons short of your toaster of existence. the mind needs consciousness,
consciousness does not need mind. Bon Voyage.. when the body revolts within itself, and parts battle
parts,
it's the last revolution, the last pogo, follow the few that
have wisdom, don't let it deceive with knowledge, the brass ring of annihilation, you'll be recognized by a chip, and maybe it will be all that's left..

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Lawrence Welsh

The Texas Land Commission

comanche drum
and smoke
still resides
in long-horn cattle
their eyes
the question marks
for men
who stay here
under the jaguar cave
under the auspices
of work
or work to learn
something new

at night
we hear them
their drums
pounding down
the mesas
their smoke
inside our lungs
and we see them
dance across
stone altars
howling at one
with land
still meant to be
left
as it was
here


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