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by scott Author IconMail Icon
Rated: · Poetry · Other · #1588810
inobjective pain conditioned into the objective mind
i am not inert
though i sit watching
for signs of the bigger picture
fleeting slow breath pumping
through the wash of stagnant putrified air
daisies grown tween toe's
reaching for sky attain only nose
beauty of peace
odor of dank
roots trip
stalks strip flesh so lightly
take hold of the hoe
trim the vile lovely things
beat about the earth
take hold of the hoe
take hoe hold
hoe hold
hoe hold back

clear the senses
despite your eyes
untrusted balls of jelly
liars
cheats
single sight marbles
dispute them
claw them out
engage with them in rage
pour the cup of pain for these beasts
boss is known to these wastes of good cells
cessation taking red feelings
senses creep back
save one
a little bit clipped
four fifths the parcel
whats that smell?
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