again the gleaming
horn section
blasting turning into
tuning, disorder
organizing, hot
metal branding iron
before the screaming
teeth, the crashing
waves jagged rock
etched our
monument’s face
sandy undertow, and
churn, the little
creatures scatter,
burrow, wait for the
receding to talk
among themselves
under the roar, wishing
to be heard
Oi= going totally abstract !? please write it down, for me, simple and clear – maybe I have gone lame, sorry. love,M.
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Yeah. Pretty abstract.
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