Sunday, October 17, 2010

Habitual Perceptions

Tunnels of vast eclipsing doom
where the sun rose from the noon
had not been years since the dog crooned.
I ate soup there as I sat upon a stone wall to read
a hammering show room had nothing but tools.
However, it did suffice the fish held spice
so I fished all day till midnight.
I got up and left the cupboards empty
in belief you would rotate the bumptious
and release the sadness
if you only relied on habitual perceptions.

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