This may seem familiar… But you are not going to understand… No matter how willing… Ajar be the mind or cupped be the hand…
It’s never wanted to be understood… Maybe wanton acceptance… As fear leads to song… As song leads more to dance…
I will never be as honest as prescribed… I’m a homeshored lotophagi… Like most before me… I made this one up… Built it up slowly…
Notice how I started in rhythm… then on third, schizm… If you get that wave, ride it… Run far, don’t analyze, don’t edit…
It’s inherent, will, can happen again… Don’t worry about the next… You’ll burn now to then… With nothing to show for
I’m a homeshored lotophagi… Not going anywhere… Pointless and left behind… Yet used up, evidently dry… unmoving yet everywhere… Barely a stain in time…
danDAman 