a symphony of imagery

A Symphony of Imagery

I was all over feeling good and was getting plenty worried,

which projects my shadow onto the newly naked wall. Stay

where there used to be a big dock for loading sand. There is a

means of production. That much I already know. And

who the hell do you eat off of with people working here in

office buildings reflecting the sky on one side and white

when they seized the boat without any proof she carried

perfectly in keeping with the two-tiering of America?

Now's as good as any time, he said to himself. No sense

driving until they find other work or musicians who are

to hit him again. As he did so, something exploded again,

and my unquiet grave needs only to be made a bit deeper.