i am really smile
for something new
and fashioned from
the rot of yesterday
i can almost smell
the revolution coming
here in the corner of the
eclipse there is something
about to happen like a lance
upon the boil of kali yuga
before the horse began to
snort the world in a meadow
with hats and playing–
the tapestry of you and
me and the village
it will be again and
soon to silence the
bellow of the beast

the here and now can be
a prison or to free beyond
the mangle of the mind

we think that mars
should be for space
junk for catholic priests and
ashcroft ship em out

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