I'm in a random mood tonight.
Bees sing sweeter in the night with drops of umbrellas in their skin.
Trees sing now on a lark with bones for wings and white feathers.
Smooth white stones and trees for darkness that slips across my mind like a silk glove.
Maybe in the red moon a purple star will fall beyond what it can call it's shack of pearls.
Differences is a Micky Mouse Puppet falling on ceders across from a Wal-mart with a quiet fuzzy green sweater scratching the hands of the child that plucks at it.
Why do we run in moons across a sky grey with toilet seats and ceramic bayonets?
Horses run swifter on glazed days with spring in their manes and bones through their ear.
Why are you scratching a xylaphone?
I will appropriate the world, and ten faded blue jeans from Bosnia will rise up in protest. Why, they will say, why on cold nights do the stars shine broader than the quiet sound of the easter bunny in a spaceship on a hot summer's day?
Phew. Good to get all THAT out of my system...
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