I’m behind the tortoise
Behind the slug
Behind the sloth
But I’m still focused on winning
Until….
I’m behind the tortoise
Behind the slug
Behind the sloth
But I’m still focused on winning
Until….
Why are there so many downs to the ups
But hardly any ups to the downs?
I come from the walls
Triangles and sticks
My mother had no breasts
So I fed off myself
Long before I lost my father’s name
From the beginning I stood on my feet
Learned what bullshit was
From reading classic books
I neglect history
Have made enough of my own
I am the first and last of my kind
Not a monkey man
But a man of the mind
Fragments are the answer to slowing time
And if you survive a thousand falls
You’ll evolve into what I am
The inhuman voice
From a different age
Past and future fused
The philosopher sage
I hear colors
Smell words
Touch feelings
Taste sounds
I am what the ancients called clown
A master of oral lore
Heartless but undamaged
Ruined but remade
Logic intensified
I came from the walls
But my fall was from the clouds
________________________________________
This piece was first published at “The Rusty Nail” (2013).
I treat every end like a beginning
And every beginning like it will never end
A wisdom to know but
No wisdom to follow
What is the difference between a difference?
Between wearing a mask and being one?
Of smiling and wanting to smile?
Talking and writing?
How much is really similar in similarity?
Does it matter or is this only my 5am curiosity?
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