Friday, January 14, 2011

Lucid Dreams.

Obsession with wishful thinking
Silent seizures surrenders blinking
Thrust your hips to the sound of
computer clicks -
Imaginary chips -
Click Clack Click Clack
Split Splat Split Splat

Oh!
Ye solemnly swears that was the last.
Ye fib tellers chow down on glass.

The children have vanished into the night,
no longer at peace with guidelines.
Hum drum drunk towns
We lounge around
To the bass, tambourines and serene colors.
All is love, love is all.

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