Thursday, April 3, 2008
am i old?
i don't know.
they'd have some system of telling
they'd lift me up by the feet and shake me until everything fell out of my pockets
this would be no easy feet as i am not altogether light or a small person
or maybe they would put a thick piece of glass over my face and inspect the thickness of my skin
maybe they would ask me what might to them be simple enough questions
gauges of wisdom
wisdom that forms the rings around the trunk of an otherwise fully developed and subsequently older being...thing?
but i cant have anyone cut me open.
that shit would hurt
no part of me can be read like the bloody quagmire of a witches cauldron
time is only a song the land sings
but i sing all the time
sometimes i cant stop singing
most people think me retarded
i think that's why they have such a tough time of it
i don't know why they need to know
why do they need to know?