Thursday, 30 January 2014

25. It’ll I’ll

It’ll always be more people, you know this
And you know too how confused all things are
Here in this world cooked up from rage, hate and greed
Only thought on, unacted

It is never really ‘only’ – that’s a lie
A desperate lie told in every language
Through the teeth, to the face

It’s whatever, OK – it’s a wound
That may heal. Just relax, drink
Embrace here this playful language
Dirty & hopeful

I’ll ask whatever questions are needed
Aren’t these what help define this world?
Its processes entropic but turbulent[1]
Dive in to start

[1] like burning

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