The Clouds Are Us (A Surreal Dislocation)
When the sun goes down and the trees are naked, when the fallen have no need to fall, we’ll stop posing the charcoal question: what life do we live when we’re awake? With choice a circle amounting to nothing, never a beginning, never an ending, we’ll barricade our hears and shut our minds and free ourselves to this conscious earth A mummied pharaoh searches for god in Egypt but we laugh and hedonize in our dislocation ‘cause tomorrow’s the dream we never had today and god won’t hurt us whilst … Continue reading →