Friday, August 27, 2010

My Brain One

my brain began drawing plays in the sand my brain sifted through pebbled sand my brain soaked it's hands in a white oily wax my brain talked with a small man in the back of a small diner about things of small meaning my brain would sit under a spot of tea and throw snow balls at speeding cars my brain forced the old men to watch my brain is an ocean my brain tried to drown the forrest

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