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Jan 15, 2019
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The Sower of Dream Wax
I would be the sower of dreams,
flossing the dead with new flavors,
spreading mirage matter on abandoned
walls. Better yet as a pair of eyes
rolling in the dark, beneath the lake's
syrupy tide, stained by the pyrite gold
of floodlights; a messy voyeur
a gaze which scalps the night.
About This Poem
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
zebra
6 years 6 months ago
A beauty!!!!
A beauty!!!!
weirdelf
6 years 6 months ago
Fuckin love that last line!
The poem was a tad ice-cream, albeit jet black ice-cream, before that line turned it into a dangerous work.
Onya, brother.
quillsveinback
6 years 1 month ago
The Silver Surfer
did it, he was the first mythological God then replaced by fraud men and tricksters. That you enjoyed it flatters my folded heart.
The Sandman I am familiar with but ne'er a once did I read it.
weirdelf
6 years 1 month ago
Only problem with the Silver Surfer was
despite the good story and mythology, not a surfer at all and those of us who ride the ocean on surfboards could not accept him at all.
It tried to plug in to a popular lifestyle but dismally failed in that respect because those who wrote and drew it had transparently never ridden a surfboard. Does that sound like smug self-alienation?
No. Really, if you have ever ridden a surfboard and got tubed you will know I am talking about a very real and distinct spiritual experience.