With words swirling in this pot call a mind
a brew of madness erupts over its edges
a fantastical over pour of hell and heaven
Riding on the phenomena that lies between them
It spreads out but never spreads thin
And a pit of English
driven by love, lust, hate and fear
Rides every single letter
That dance on my pen
A forever fire that blows and boils my pot
My master.
I advocate him when I draw my pen across my paper.
But I took no part
in the melodious overture of the overflow.
A powerless man with a powerful mind
A god and a hazard in my own rite
to create and destroy it's translator.
10-25-00
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