Dr. Paul.Feb13,2K8

February 21, 2008

Brown Bear Fur...

...as hair crest upon a skull
of flesh, blood, circuitry and sweat.
From regions near we pulsate our
existence; sensation liquidating luminescence
emitting reality as response; imagination
covering the corners of despair, seeking exits
from an inescapable hive. Disperse appeal
upon ambition, towards disdain embrace stone
eyes. Without efface, we collect exemption,
from solitude shaded upon sanctity. Alone we
last, within seclusion; no luxuries of
simplicity. Such that to eat, to bathe, to
sleep, to wake, to work, to read and write
of our own ambition is stolen away by
procedures and timetables, dictum of a system
out of touch with its sinners. Thus, 'hope' of potential
decays by day, lasting till the lady waves her staked
gravel of justice, gory grins behind gray vise letting
up only when the bar is passed and the pages are
stained with ink.

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