Monday, March 14, 2011

Pole Tics [poem]

hide me in the house
blind my eyes
the truth painting
in the widows are pictures
all I hear is
GO BACK TO SLEEP
stay in dream state

proctor to protect
from foes and friends
no need to know
the evil face

to go back where it all began
so hard to do
when the canvas
so long painted over
so thick
like a world in itself
what is beneath?

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