'Do you mean the attack is routine?'
a bird asked of a bird
'In this context, a concave nest,
how do we learn to hurt?'
'do you mean there's no variation?'
watching a dog charge a flock
of birds exploding in congregation
"Why plan; when we stop?"
'I dunno....but why suppose it's not the
way it should be?
when you can fly above
the great waiting list,
as the crow implies; we won't be missed,
we can
leave
we can
leave
we can
leave.
Lyrics
it's a routine flight for this bird tonight
there's more worms than earth
in the Afterlife
where the blind feed the blind,
whispering things like;
'On the money and Bullseye'
she picks up the little leaves
where human wrecks are left to seed
left to repaint their deities
and plaster away at their villianies
where there's love
there's hope
'and do you hope those earthbound poets
could learn to sing as good as us?
so we can sit back and enjoy our illusions
and our quietus?
'well I don't know....but why suppose it's
not the way it should be?
when you can squawk and wait for word
from above
and change yourself into something you love
when you leave
you
leave
you
leave.?
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