Where the Palm Tree Grow

Everything bonds so quickly I can hardly find a place the move the trigonometry of the earth has placed everything in a cluster beneath the hidden dirt. I can get from Helsinki to Copenhagen in a speed boat beneath the hidden stream that is wrapped up in my dreams and when my cousin fell ill, I had to take the short route underneath the floor from Cairo to Gaza on a coalmine tram designed to take food to coal digging merchants mining coal a hundred and fifty miles beneath the earth. The Atlantis was gorgeous island, somewhat of a paradise, some say it was a myth and in reality, it did not exist. Its wealth surpasses the land and its magic outdoes the hemisphere and when it disappeared its legend was scattered everywhere. You read about it but you cannot believe it, you visualize it but you cannot comprehend it. The Greeks misrepresent it too and legend has it walking around without shoe. But somewhere out there the Atlantis will appear and nature will serve whip cream and sauce for supper. See the palm trees standing in rows they have something to show, their roots run deep into the earth and the palms hanging from the branch are laden with oil that can fill your lamp,. The virgins were searching all night for perfect oil to string their lamp and when they came to the palm tree, they all fell down and worshipped thee, this strange phenomenon perplexed me all night but I was determined to complete the fight. I climbed on top of the hill to get a perfect view of things and the jumping jack with a strange accent and weird countenance echoed across the land about an imminent invention but the city stood still reminiscing, its sin. I stood on top of the mountain looking at the city, a site that was once filled with aspiration and laughing children, lovers hanging out on the deck pulling each other breath. And the smells of sweet aroma evaporate from the roof. The roast pig in the ground is a Peruvians famous dish, marinated with fine spices and seasoned to your delight. It is placed in a hole in the ground to cook and it will take you to where destiny is bound. I stand on the mountain looking below, and all I see is city lying in ruin and charred bodies reduce to dust. It is pitch black over there and the crys lies in the ruins in the ground and the spirits are running up and down. The assemble of life has gone away to pave the way for a brand-new day and the oracle is fulfilled. The palm trees are standing on the hill, and the musical notes begins where the palm tree grows