Lies are larger than life.
A seagull is lighter than air.
The rain is blacker than nighttime.
The age of reason is tired of rent.
The slow season of rust must endure.
And the snow is always lost to indecision.
A blind man speaks; there are no more salmon
as we've bred them out of existence.
When the sun rises a magician
has pulled it from his hat.
Emptiness is a still shadow.
From here until eternity the hours wait.
Death is but an aside.
Elegance is my bride
with the stars and planets at my side.
There is nothing more sincere than apes.
Where are the grandchildren? Were they lost in the flood? Did time fly out the window? Are there no more sharks in winter? Alone in the waves a statue stands. There are no roads, there are no trains. The veins you see are what's left of Earth's exposed heart. Do not be afraid of poems, they write themselves on the letterhead of short rumors. We shall reap the rewards of storms that return on a dark night like desire. There is a mistress whose corpse sings in the mirror. What is lost of the best moments lies delicate beneath rainstorns. When we listen to silence the world returns in a cup. Without knowing whispers life's mysteries remain undeciphered.
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