It

it is what i’ve had burning inside since the days

of my previous suicide when the ball bearings

of my machine grew burs and did not fit into

his or hers but kept me rolling strong and

fast and better and higher and smarter and

deeper than the rest of the fluffy world

it is what i see in the pain that’s run through

your veins forever in the minutes i’ve known you

to be so true blue and new and refreshing like

the view of a long lost twin in the wind of a warm

Indiana day a roll in the hay with a childhood

sweetheart safe from the cloned cold world

it is what popular people of the brave old world are against

or are needing to stop the minds that are bleeding

and craving for something anything nothing that

is not the norm of the dorm or the dynamic static

suburban dream of a home that reminds them of

Rome and indeed they see the future of their world

it is what we have without communication in our nation

that is small and warm and soft and protected

from them with no defections or reflections of our

hearts from the start but innocent games the same

as our destiny and bond of which we are fond as well

as the energy we stole from the magnetic pole of their world

it is love and passion or chain reactions between two souls

breathing and listening to the radio playing inside or

wanting to hide with books and pens or flowers for