I don’t want my eyes to function now.
Merging time with cross-eyed alienation.
All of the yards of junk disappear.
And a huge choir sings Mozart
deep in a crevice in my head.
American Culture, Depression, Fear, Mozart, Music, Poems, Poetry, recovery, Seeking God
This entry was posted on February 23, 2011, 11:15 am and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0.
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#1 by Evelyn on February 23, 2011 - 4:52 pm
sparse and powerful!!
of course it would be Mozart…:)
#2 by Carl on February 23, 2011 - 11:40 pm
I’m the bull and Mozart is the china shop. Mozart cures most madness, just not my madness. Thank you! I was hoping you would not think it was too sparse! 🙂
#3 by Evelyn on February 24, 2011 - 1:21 pm
ha! you were thinking that about me?
whats that? lol
I think we should see who can write the shortest poem that doesnt suck.
#4 by Carl on February 24, 2011 - 7:29 pm
You would win the sparse contest. You would win it 100 – 0 and they would have to call an end to it due to the mercy rule. I thought sparse was a spice girl until today.
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