“Run my dear,
From anything
That may not strengthen
Your precious budding wings.
Run like hell my dear,
From anyone likely
To put a sharp knife
Into the sacred, tender vision
Of your beautiful heart”
p. 28
18 May 2014
4 May 2014
Some of The Planets are Hosting
Some
of The Planets are Hosting
The ear
becomes alert when music says, “I’m over here.”
The eye
goes on duty, becomes viable,
When beauty
whistles and points to her dress on the ground.
God has
sent out ten thousand messengers
Announcing
a great bash tonight some of the planets are hosting
Where the
lead singer is God, Himself.
But most of
those couriers
Have become
drunk, got waylaid,
Disoriented
to the hilt
With such
exalted news,
And can no
longer remember
The time
and the place.
What does
that have to do with you?
Plenty.
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