in roads whose path is virtue
relative conjectures bind absolute truths
in the slipstream of utterances
mental lapses occur without percetive glances
to the immortal mind of atoms
this place does not leave them confused
while our collective thinking fits and chasms
time marches on Bourbon and Toulouse
in the numb crowd
dumb notions work like potions
working best for politicians and cohorts alike
pinning guile tails on the donkeys with a spike
watch out for droppings of cow manure on the street
walk on the sidewalk, shaded from the steaming heat
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1 comment:
Per Mr. Mistofflees:
hmm...well,actually...they are armed little kosaks who hammer and sickle pixels on the command of my creative will...absolutely - yes, it's a violent and bloody struggle of mind over matter, death over sin, passion over monochrome...the true russian condition
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