fishbook

hello sleep,
you're startling even me now
and i remember how you were
in old days (things were different)
and little men like passing time
an angel hums a brian wilson tune
while walking from a plane
and then, like tangerine sunset
an atom bomb of beauty
and it's trying like rose petals
to dance a strange dream out in characters (chinese)
and hills that row over us.

the tide is always turning.

2003-10-12 | 6:07 p.m.
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