Thing
I am just going
Going
Going
Over one huge unbelievable bulge over the west
Cold winters drooping their sparkler dims
From the moon and stars
Her beloved beauty
Voluptuous hips and plump bosom
Drops me flat
To gaze of admirability
Searching in my travels
For the thing
That thing
This thing
Eluding my fingertips for touch
Drifting away from sight
In chase I go to the frozen loneliness of the east
Falling for dreary love
So far into the gutter
In my travel’s far and wide
Never ending quest for…that thing
Which is not a thing at all, for it is unchained to
belonging
Free from control
Where the existential mother says
That which is…is and which is not…is not
No comments:
Post a Comment