Spaceman In Arcadia
post-apocalyptic musings from the edge of reality
Thursday, August 20, 2009
words/birds
Not in love with words,
not in winged flight
like the birds
or the stars
in their flight
over the midnight
obsidian; void
the empty nothingness
and that which lies beyond
they shoot like needles
into the tar-like
surface of the
universe...
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