Time Is the Invention of Men Incapable of Love
"le temps est une invention des gens incapable d'aimer"
mine is a suspended time
away from here and sublime.
there are open doors and windows to my world.
they are hung and hinged in many flavors swirled.
a phantom paints
the thoughts of saints
he draws as he scrawls
on my bedroom walls.
welcome to my machine
it is here we convene
all of my thoughts all of my ideas and moods.
here where from every pore my life exudes.
this is the one place i come home to.
far away from where i live and grew.
i search areas where no man has trod.
on my boat just me and my fishing rod.
"toujours les grand coeurs aimeront"
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