John's Rage
My impressions blend and bend Like wind-storm branchesPencil sketches against an agate skyJohn is breaking furnitureScreaming, growling profaneAnimal soundsIt, the sound, reaches out Across the bay, across oceansExpanding and contractingStretching light intoStar tendrils of rain soakedNeon taxi windowsMy conscience is a widowDark, and bleak and preachingBut I stay hiddenBeneath the animal growling crashAnd beneath the glow of The night…the dark…The empty expanse of ambient fear
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