The Typical Earth
It’s never still.
Like a clicking jaw.
Thoughts get relayed.
Sometimes replayed with a new cover song.
It’s not just what could exist.
It’s like a cradling feeling, unreal.
In real time or unfunctional.
They claim.
It’s never still.
It’s whooshing with no sound.
It’s gracious imagination which nods to me.
I saw a jaw.
Disintegrate as if it was my own.
And I closed my eyes as if eyes can hold still.
Please believe me when I say:
Thoughts can’t be stilled.
Try to crack them with a hammer.
And get another vision.
Try to forget the crackling.
And another candy wrapper falls from the sky.
It’s never still.
My thoughts are ribbons.
Got overshadowed by:
The typical earth.
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