Wednesday, August 28, 2013


... a young man can’t
Make up his mind over
Matters of an uncertain
Nature / searching be
Tween the glossy rocks
& previous vegetation
Unconsciously whistling
Some esoteric tune
Waiting for the fossil
To appear to verify a
Previous existence
When even a rusty bit
Of antique machinery
Or spent condom pro
Vides proof that he is
Not alone as the sun
Sinks below the water
The tide runs out then
Limps back in erasing
Unseen worlds that
Smell of the secrets
Brooding in the blood
Of a young man can’t
Make up his mind…


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