crows will fly and fields will burn
some will plant 101 seeds in case of 100 birds swooping down
the winds raise flocks of ash from the charred nest of the earth and
no one will know anything about it
dog chewing dog and a thinking animal flees
skies turn red and silty as dark gray caves offer shelter
hammering hail tamps and packs the dirt but
no one will know anything about it
figure grows bigger as the world recedes
a giant shadow taps where the figure disappeared
the world is vast until the edge of sight yet
no one will know anything about it
now do you get it awakening to concur
now do you imagine repentance because your pride is broken
now do you think you'll hold your tongue rather than question since
no one will know anything about it
invent a genealogy start the universe again
chant belches and farts of praise and thanksgiving
creating a fiction of the fact of our self-isolation because
no one will know anything about it
small comfort in the remaining night desolation
the world is an excuse to lapse into savagery
forget the higher self it's forgotten you now that
no one will know anything about it
but you know better sadly enough
the ash will settle and nourish that seed
this body lie picked at by burning crows like
no one will know anything about it
Content (c) 2008-2010 Philip Milito.
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