Tuesday, July 8, 2008

american young.

to swallow a sword takes practice
boiled slowly,
every stage
of youth, crowded
and underpaid wisdom
quilting with fabric gathered
from fields where mistaken seeds
were sown before books were kept,
but oh, they were written,
rearers desparately rearing

learn either
charging, dislocating for reach, or

hunkered in the
savoring or starving for a crib
and comfort in a feeble latch

I've forgotten,
the shouts of living novelty
to calloused whispers.

even still they do not cease,
"it s a ie.. t is a li.. is a lie."

Jan. 31, '05

That's a gnarly one I wrote when I was having my life rocked by a pastor in Gardena. He turned my world upside down, and made me see all sin as rooted in Man's desire to rule his own life. That foundational truth seemed to spider vein out to every aspect of society.

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