Monday, December 13, 2010

For He So Loved The Queue

Claude Debussy plays away, the tightly-lipped pillow man from yesterday, a worm of sorts now. much to be abducted, but he withstood the towering pain, of a blister in the mouth, and a growth in manpower and sales. how goes he, unnoticed, baring no resemblance to the mighty rain, as he galloped through the mechanical city, with no slippers or a dollar note to spare. so serene the stupidity, of coming to a banquet with a leather suit and pants. so serene is the country we live in. that we run ourselves against walls we build, loving so hopeless, yet hoping all at the same time... longing after.

No comments:

Post a Comment