Hear – these symbols shape the mourning; I have stated this before – the weight of your
soul is mass entrenched, un-moving, seamless, locked and blended in time—or so it seems
dear brothers few who guide this pen to page; the standards, your age to follow your
stagnant point of view – you are angry at your placement no matter how much you stand and
smile; for miles I have traveled to impart this wording all to do: nothing.
Sit and watch the world pass for it will – with or without you, whether you stand and
shout, whether you sit and cry, weathered-you face unto the rain, unto your neighbor’s
lasting pain unto all that stands restrained, they are simple lists and commands, they
pull the brilliant and the bland, they stave the warm embrace, the needful void – layers
is all, layers do fall to reveal what lies within – that drivel from your chin, that
3-mile stare within; a taping on your head, the valid seasons dread is all writing in the
sand, a smile within the storm, layers clipped and shorn.