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Wednesday, July 21, 2004


A M E N D M E N T S

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F i r s t - s h o e s

My first shoes would not wear out
My birthplace was a flimsy shelter
that lacked topographic identity
Melancholia pervades my memory-
occupied by limp plots drained
in various shades of gray

S p a c e m a n

Currently I canít afford
patent-leather shoes
Iím under the weather
----SPACEMAN-----
Flaws in my stroke
weakened the fundamentals
A sink-or-swim dilemma
precedes a reversal
of skilled inadequacy

S u b - a r c t i c

Every man is his own inmate
A room should smell of culture
and be designated as a set of
Sub-arctic morale
Proclaim yourself a soap opera
and star by your own name

T o x i c

Vision is a toxic bacteria-
a garbage truck of status quo
challenging blasphemy
The Gods of your zone
Smoking Camels and sipping
native brandy
will write your doomsday obit
on borrowed time

It takes three stories to fall
-effectively- to your own death

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(C) Walt 2004

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posted by Walter at 7/21/2004