the gate will be closed
the lights off
the door locked
the shades drawn
the computer off
the dog asleep
the cats silent
dead phone batteries
the wind is quiet
the woods is still
the sky is rumbling
tattered and tumbling
aliens are coming
fumbling and stumbling
my world in crumbling
topping for my salad
of starts and finishes
let the aliens dimise
who was wise
lost in my cries and tone
life in a cone stone
left by a drone
leave me alone
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
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