Sunday, October 10, 2010

Blue Danube

One can be conked on the head with falling debris.
The planet is still smoking. From high ground,
the rain of stars is more apparent.

One can forage for days
and not come upon another upright.

The sphere vibrates with the sound of music
which one day will be called; blues, jazz
and heavy metal. The Waltz is yet to be invented.

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