by George Stal

carried by the frenzy of plasma rushin' such
incandescent Belief. On Robin's wings flown
to such Heights the head is unable to spin
due to pressure and lack of oxygen.
Nothing changes.
By redeyed dawn skimming thru lost pages
to find a gemstone here a usable
stanza there. Cut & paste perfection stream
lining my code. Fallen into the conviction
that one day , someone, somewhere
shall spy what this Eye once conceived
be all like woah that touched a fucking nerve
ending. At present seeing only sniggers in the three
bit after glow, making this fucker sing
for his show.
To attack by this pen
screaming dischords as seagulls pluck
out my eyes... well to be perfectly honest
only the right sir... Analytical no need.
W-/ my Left's far scope if you'll Let,
me drifting off that far SunSet

Nothing but stardust...

Last updated September 15, 2011