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Thought Train Location As of October 27th, 2013

Thought Train Location As of October 27th,2013 Take 1 …don’t even try to believe or perceive or conceive any of this* when the clouds come to veil the stars and the night puts you in an unsure but com/for/table artistic condition and the moths come smacking their bodies against the transparent glass defending the depths of fires twisting and swirling through a windstorm on the inside(it’s just a lamp, fellas)/? But the room feels cold because it’s now raining in here and I’m wearing a desk across my shoulders while I stand naked trying to remember where I put my unsharpened two cent pencil so I can write COME IN across the paper moon that hangs upside down on the floor just low enough so you can still swim across the oceanic ceiling and glide through the walls with painted skies and sculpted unconscious dreams/ I’d sit down but gravity won’t allow it and come to think of it I don’t know how to sit because the chair(cloud) is made of songs and words but there’s no format to form any conceivable meaning that I can relate with so I’ll just stand/ I pack some cigarettes and jump onto the blades of a liquid fan that blows whisky across my lips until they’re too cracked to speak about the problems of the moth who crawls across my open eye and eats my face outside of the reflecting window*- suddenly I see myself twirl and fade away like smoke blowing away into non-existence! There’s an optical illusion in the room that has me doubting everything I stand for because I thought I saw God but it was just a picture pasted on a board and only defended by thin fragile glass that I could shatter with my mind if I wanted to(already did actually) but I see all these moths praying to it because they don’t think any better than that (they never even thought to)/ Now time is approaching “dawn” and the sunlight begins to seep into the room like a snake slithering towards its prey and it’ll strike me down swallow me alive and return me back to {put noun here} where perception and perspective are the only truth, and to even know that none of that’s true at all is to live with so many questions and I just can’t accept the answers that I’m given for those but I know I’m supposed to& I lost my train of thought so get off the tracks before I punch you in the face with my cigarette and watch as you frantically brush away the ash that burns into your skin like an ant (or moth) melting beneath a magnified glass- you caterpillar.* Flutter by butterfly, we all live to die / WHATTT?/ I said I hope I’m ready for anything because here comes everything out to bring me down for something they forgot to say and really I know nothing about no-thing so don’t ask me anything about something I said because I won’t tell you a thing about what you just read_WHHAAPPP!!* *(sips on his whisky and {put verb here} his cigarette) {how creative can you get?}

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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Date: 5/17/2016 12:18:00 AM
Rusted Dream, creative and well done. Thank you for sharing. **SKAT**
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Date: 5/14/2016 3:28:00 PM
rUSTED dREAM, Fantastic writing, glad to read your poem. ~Love LINDA~
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Book: Shattered Sighs