On This Earth

On this earth at daybreak
I step outside to find
that all the trees have hollows,
all the birds face east,
and the bells all swing
their open mouths into the sky.
Kling klang they shout!
The sound breaks out
of belfries, arcs its way
across the sky to fall
into the wild beastly trees that
sing along behind the leaves

Irony’s a Bitch

I lay on the cold dusty hard wood floor contemplating the voice of my generation, visions of rebellion sex drugs protest and poetry

Who are we but those who walk in the shadows of beats and baby boomers

We are not the Y generation, but the why generation, everything’s been done everyone’s been challenged, so where are we left to express dissatisfaction



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