the walls provide me with
writing of a different kind,
a different time,
a different place,
and all my pores open delight,
taking it all in...
but into what?
in the midst of investigation,the dead lie there
in coffin-like homes,
peering our at us as if
we were back stage rock stars
and have given them passes
to look back inside...
but inside what?
in the midst of understanding,
a collective consciousness
sits between our legs
pointing us into a future direction
of which we know nothing,
but why?
11Oct14
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