Suburbs of the Universe

Families that became less complete,
traverse through labyrinths of concrete.

little introspection for this flesh anomaly in practice.

In the brightest of sunshining,
a bard imbibing the deep roast of brew with honey,

We are all or none and hypocrites:

We can be ignorant or nonplussed at the bad fortress about us;
picking our teeth and staring blankly-

I do appreciate the glory of living,
no matter the dearth or excess of resources in any field.

Prepositions and food.

The spellcastor is a mark and a marksman;
to and from the dreary silo of inertness and introversion.
Nausea as well, dismiss that too.
Relegate the awful to inanimate carriers of cosmic matter.

everyone is kissing to prove no points.
and neither do my words prove points;
but this is how some may communicate
with lovers, haters, stormsearchers, and the dead.


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Writer, aspiring farmer and homesteader in North Georgia, making ends meet and trying to become more enlightened.

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