Of American make.
(It’s skull and bones).
Where the glow of midnight crashes about into unseen ferment,
Of yeast and cake.
(Of macriobiotic make).
Where the fuel is meant to crash you upon the barrier reef,
Through a time gate.
(It’s Steven Hawking).
Unknown division and unknown predilection and unknown faith,
And unknown perseverance.
(It’s Patton himself).
A gun, a knife, a bow and arrow, a tattoo, a Hindu swastika,
Through a needle of eternity.
(I am just a cave man).
Odysey of stone and murder into a Roman arena,
Cesar and Brutus.
(A stab in the back)
A wine bottle in a tulipe vase which speaks Armenian,
And spills once in a while,
(It’s instinct improvement).
A bash coming out of mediocre understanding and karma,
Above an immersion of blood
(Peek, watch and shut up).
I am gonna run you down, tie you up, fill you through, and you inbetween,
A carved wood sculpture.
(Yeah man you are the future).
LOVE and Letters on everypoet.net
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