you be? 7/97
Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Bzzzzzzzzz Bzzzzzzzz
The locust tells tales
Of endless haze,
And wishes to mate
With the car alarm.
September used to be
Just a bad dream for him.
But, with summer's despotism,
He waits like jungle guerilla,
For summer's fall,
And autumn's glorious reign.
Angel 7/97
Two empty nights I have wondered.
I have asked the questions,
Disdained the answers,
And cursed the circumstance.
The question remains,
Until the rain
Can bring my girl
Back to me.
I give thanks to the rain
For coming to me.
It exhibits beauty
In ways most angelic,
Thus proving it will not
Be possessed.
When rain comes to me,
She bathes the Earth
In her innocence,
And I, too, am inspired.
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