Saturday, April 22, 2006

blues in dug up asphault

- I like when little things explode big

- some kinds of vowels you can feel in your spleen

- lets stop before the sun gets too low and we're nothing but shadow

- sometimes you find rainbows under water

- what does it take to get up those sleeves?

- I'm just left over dry wall dust and coffee grounds

- rocking gently to wind and opium rhythms

- some day we'll all have to pick our hemispheres

-you're a thousand kinds of angles, your own geomerty

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