"There's not much doubt in any of our minds that no complete idea springs fully formed from our brow,
needing only a handshake and a signature on the contract to send it off into the world to make twenty-five billion dollars.
The germ of the idea grows slowly..." - Walt Kelly

Thursday, June 4, 2015

The world is flat

I need to lie to you.
It's slithering in my veins,
boiling my blood like a poison,
clamoring to be drawn from a wound.
Hand me a fistful of rainwater
and let me tell you about the ocean.
Lend me a cup of fog and hear
wonders of a heaven too sweet
to be light years from real.
This is no sin, this lie -
it is the work of an artisan
and as such, its creation will
rend me as though
you set upon me with steel.
I'll lay here, gaping,
until a snake doctor
sews me back together,
her iridescent wings
blazing a new rainbow into the sand.

Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Menomena, Evil Bee