Every flower in every abandoned city lot
Is part of eternity
In the reckless port of truth
With the rest of us.
Both perpendicular and parallel
And why not add paradox
Whose argument centers everywhere.
A poem causes data to quit.
Ambivalence is consciousness.
this was like celestial car wash and i don’t even have a car, but i remember car washes and the end which is the beginning is ambivalence is consciousness is AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH this is scary. even an undecipherable scream then could be a poem and god i wish that would shut data down for a long while. i remember flyers being handed out on corners and that was how we found out and maybe i’m being stuck in the past and maybe it’s just my past and i’m just unable to adapt to this technology world and then here i am typing onto a screen i can be such a hypocrite.
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Haha. Thanks, Steve. I may change the title of this to Celestial Car Wash, with your permission. I remember flyers too. I have a friend who saved them all, from all the punk shows we’d go to. I think a poem can hit you in a good way and kinda of give you amnesia in a way, or maybe a restart. See things anew.
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Reminds me of the Tower.
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a lot to ingest here: a paradox has no boundaries; and then it deliquesces —
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Throw this together, may need a bit of editing before it gets to final form. As usual, I’m a bit all over the place.
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i’m a bit that way too, Bob : the curse of hyper-active minds 🙂
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Haha. Yes, definitely a curse! 😂
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Poetry it the antidote for hyper-active anything. This is a good poem for what ails us.
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