bliss

 

You can never tell how a saxophone
Full of sleepy hamsters would behave
In a posh retirement community
Where dogs translate the words of the residents
Into something the elements can understand
Where the winds devour devastated eyes of the angels
And dog-eared walls

Just look at the holes in the face
Of each one you meet

 

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2 thoughts on “bliss

  1. the last time you were here
    you left some rhetorical questions
    on the sofa
    the kind of crumbs found in a mental hospital
    little yellow paper slips babbling incoherently
    I was just going to toss them in the trash
    and forget everything
    however, the Battle Axe got all wound up
    HOLY COW, talk about incontinence
    a shame people are forced to wear those large pads
    poetic gibberish leads to pee-pee on the rug
    misdirected early training—infantile abandon ?
    and warped conceptions of God
    as if He were hoping to receive something in return
    talk about having the “BIG HEAD”
    God wanting something from mutant apes
    ****God without humans—but what about religion ?

    Like

    • Those precious tiny things
      You call rhetorical questions
      Crumbs found in a mental hospital
      Little yellow paper slips
      They are the essense of the Quran for the next couple of decades
      Or maybe centuries
      Or even millennia
      God loves warped minds and violins the most
      And the only way for us to survive among the squares
      Is to [censored]
      And write it all down

      Liked by 1 person

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