Saturday, May 8, 2010

878. FOUNTAIN

FOUNTAIN
Well, I came here a wanderer and left just the same:
dazed, unfocused, without a rectification of means
or ends. High overhead, the red-tailed hawk has
just swooped - something monstrously graceful
to watch, though fiercely swift and sudden for the
poor baby squirrel. Enjoy the ride, my little brother!
He has taken you to Death!
-
Simply put, I sit around and watch what happens,
without a care for the value of the deed, or the
world. A powerful music courses my veins. Thick,
like the red-blood of certainty, or the slow molasses
of sureness. In there somewhere, because of that,
I sense some odd existential power I can never trace.
-
Maybe that is where the source of all things
comes from. A self-sustaining definition that
answers back to no one or nothing at all.

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