poetry = nonsense
nonsense = meaninglessness
meaninglessness = void
void = nothingness
nothingness = spirit

Feet first
born feet first loved by everyone a purple stream a boy god barely afloat he stares into the distance a heart torn between struggle and the freedom of drowning clouds drift enlightened advesperate brilliance whilst a million insects buzz above his head the condors circle their senses keen on the scents of deep unfathomable grief 8 III 2005
Copyright © 2011 Erick Calder
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