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Sufi Style<BR><BR>
<a href='delicious.php?PHPSESSID=71d319a736c1c5412a238b53a1c56765'>delicious</a><BR>
<a href='nutritious.php?PHPSESSID=71d319a736c1c5412a238b53a1c56765'>nutritious</a><BR>
<a href='archives.php?PHPSESSID=71d319a736c1c5412a238b53a1c56765'>archives</a><BR>I would stay longer, but I
<BR>
have a horrible taste in my mouth, and I
<BR>
am desperately in need of a glass of water.
<BR>
I'm sure you understand, for sure
<BR>
it's not the first time.
<BR>
That long, platinum hair I found
<BR>
belonged neither to me, nor to
<BR>
any I know, and yet somehow
<BR>
I've managed to carry it with me
<BR>
on my back, for unknown hours, or
<BR>
minutes, perhaps minutes.
<BR>
Yes, probably minutes.
<BR>
You know that the clouds move quickly,
<BR>
that a break for the moment is
<BR>
just that--for the moment.
<BR>
It smells faintly of burning flesh,
<BR>
caught perhaps on a strong easterly breeze
<BR>
from the killing fields of the world;
<BR>
The stench brushing briefly upon
<BR>
olfactory senses, and then
<BR>
into the depths of ignorance.
<BR>
The breaks between lines
<BR>
all tend to fade into
<BR>
some sort of pocketed reality,
<BR>
kept warm by two-day old
<BR>
toilet paper, folded neatly in
<BR>
a four-ply rectangular design;
<BR>
The perfect amulet for the nose run afoul.
<BR>
I know in the past you've
<BR>
found it hard to take me seriously,
<BR>
but the sky is fading slowly black, and
<BR>
nothing can turn back nature in progress.
<BR>
The days of merry maids and shining knights
<BR>
are nothing but a fabrication by
<BR>
people no different than ourselves,
<BR>
equally unsatisfied by their own
<BR>
meaningless existence.
<BR>
The days of cotton mouthed foot soldiers,
<BR>
on the other hand, still yearn brightly
<BR>
for the mellifluous attention of crisp, cool,
<BR>
non-fluorinated glass of h-two-o
<BR>
before the world goes dark again--
<BR>
and so it goes,
<BR>
they were thirsty again.
<BR>
<BR>
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