the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Friday, October 30, 2009

Bob Dylan Was A Drunk Girl

Mismatched furniture
Art-draped walls,
Hollow-tuned like corded guitars
With no chords at all.
It's alright though,
Keep the brother quiet.
All I want is the low-fi riot
Of a beautiful, alternate life
Where all the blurry pieces
Just seem to fit right.
So I can sleep at night
Nuzzled between
What's real and what seems.
Where the cutting room floor
Holds the unexposed things.

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