WoppaMan
10-02-2001, 09:56 AM
This is a steam-of-consciousness poem. Take it for what you will:
Out draconian border scar, under ever without me.
To find the stop, it is inevitable. Don't go find without me.
Do no wrong, they say in boxes. Balloons and balloons and balloons.
I am blind, you cannot stop me. Find the ever-present flea.
Graceful outcasts line the streets with looks on their faces. They own boxes.
Round cats hide within themselves.
Awash in fields of under-anger and strategy.
Do you believe?
I do not, nor can I, nor do I, nor know I, it is far far away.
Condemnable.
Winding wind. Not a mistake, not a mistake.
They've found you, hiding under the table.
Out of the land.
Out draconian border scar, under ever without me.
To find the stop, it is inevitable. Don't go find without me.
Do no wrong, they say in boxes. Balloons and balloons and balloons.
I am blind, you cannot stop me. Find the ever-present flea.
Graceful outcasts line the streets with looks on their faces. They own boxes.
Round cats hide within themselves.
Awash in fields of under-anger and strategy.
Do you believe?
I do not, nor can I, nor do I, nor know I, it is far far away.
Condemnable.
Winding wind. Not a mistake, not a mistake.
They've found you, hiding under the table.
Out of the land.