I must continue to flow while IT's here,
that ole braintap magic that spills like beer,
when your rightside is tapped and your left ear
is all you have to peer out of: sincere
words can get floated then like dreams on dro
in da wind, on da air, frankly any-
where, as the snow flakes in a fury, so
do these thoughts around my frigid many
minds and destinies, like pages untorn
from the book of what should, nay- what may be
no: what is and will be, what's been long born
and has adolesced about blind, daily:
Until one day its neck cracks, eyes open
and they roll off the tongue as words, golden.

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