Thursday, April 29, 2010


Keeping sacred space face. the lock s the water the moving. And clouds parking and the wind soughing ... the water shimmering back across the canal

is god squeaky clean I doubt-it worthies, your tides tirade the camping knight... he swooshes over its past path.. he approaching carries his mit... he's worried shes loving another another to love another worrying to another love its worrying... it's trying her nerves she wants to have the man in her arms his arms clad around her back her arms clad come close its working shes holding its blowing mist across the

she's peering and its seeing that's hearing the word sung rose the weeded room to bed and roses roses and bed in the velour space of this .... she's loved him angel what he has to fret about to fret what for fret it's a guitar string he 's got caught between fingering the chords .. the notes stayed in the air .. hung up there in their place of their ideal love...