Slowly, I feel empty until it forms.
The last ten cents of pre-paid gas moves faster.
Gold mud just slips away...
The starving waters have no effect on the electric stains.
The bad heroes and immature gods push around, the bullies.
My stop sign has no roots.
There's no glaring with eyes of fumes.
The day the lawyer takes the case of 'inner child' fondling.
Corners laugh lofty to the ceiling.
My heart beats in time, yet I understand neither.
I'm tiring hard not to swallow my mouth full of glass.
I lick the painting just to give me color.
Build a 'warsaw' to cut away.
No one alive can give me 'that' knowledge!
All is All?
Splinter and fragment is what I cluster.
The Celestine perfume bottle of the unforgiving.
That reeks.
I just like to build a new langue.
Would it be worth it to make true evil fluffy?
Hate would cross your doors and windows.
And one is learned.
All seasons suck the next, and winter gushed at last.
The sad loneliness of dragging skeletons out just for a dance partner.
The handshake, destroyed, somewhere, between Hell and Heaven.
�2003 Daniel J Harris