Pink Flamingos fly-out of the tall grass
like spears
blotting-out
the sun—
that dome of light, like a silent atomic bomb
rising higher
growing wider.
Airports are full of
ants
on the ground
while airplanes
take-off
bringing sound
to the deadly everglades.
Coffins
move along asphalt highways
more dangerous
than snakes
in the swamps
but we don’t fear
them.
A go-fast boat
slices through the water
like cocaine cut by a knife.
It’s a high
to live this life.
We can’t measure ourselves with money
because it won’t give us style
or teach us to believe
beyond the sunset.
From the darkness, comes my music
and the creation of day.
The power
to say
words
that invigorates nature
like the sun.
We are dancing
with martial arts movements
killing
Gods
of the moment
until they are lost
under still water.
This tired universe
is dreaming
for the rarest breed—
The poet
won’t heed
the law.
He wakes up
with the sun inside himself
and brings warmth
to empty space.
The poet
won’t heed
the law.
He wakes up
with the sun inside himself
and brings warmth
to empty space.
Absolutely stunning, Andy!
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Hey Harshi, I’m so glad that you enjoyed my words. Sorry for the delayed response. Life only goes faster and faster…
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