Jan 22, 2010


to turn into edible but unfulfilling form--
see also proselyte shtick and soft proselyte--
not to be confused with pretzel-lysine
used to kill cramps
induced by mental
gymnastic overexertion--
i am not a man of depth
and that is not irony--
were that i were
the shadows of a tree
fallen upon a tree--
better honest confusion
born of intellect and ignorance
than the false innocence
wormed in the clarity of a lie--
i am half-words and phrases
faded, frayed and mislaid--
beauty is legion and truth diamond burning away
as it flaring scathes into the roaring fusion
of a sun, any sun, this one--
or so i say--
i do not love the stars today.