for believers, doubters and hopeful pouters, rockers, ravers, lovers and sinners, poets, fighters and smokers everywhere fighting with their lighters.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
between the documents
clustered paper mountains, swallowed boredom counts the hours, hundred miles up, suspended earth turns in galactic magic, infinite miles out, time was an idea
3 comments:
Time- it is infinite,yet it hems us in.
It's easy to drown in a sea of protocol. Been there. Feeling for you, man.
Nice description of an exquisite ennui. A subject/style reminiscent of the Metaphysical Poets.
Time is a document. I lost the file. Outta time. 4 c'clock. Go home. Sleep. Go to work. Find document.
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