Before Bed Covers Cover Me

Sprouting nothingness like the sea of corn,

Causing sugar and crazed diabetics,

Everyone is allergic now,

And smoke the air as you breath,

Starting small to a black mass of anger,

The small one is white,

Angry, but damnit not so quiet if you knew,

What a bitch,

The anger doesn’t explode,

Unless it copulates manically,

But if the earth is loved by the angry one,

Then the anger boils,

The boil burns when tipped free,

Running down to fill the open void,

As all voids need filling,

Then a paradise is found,

The levels of hell are reached,

Burnt along the way of the hero’s journey,

To find himself in hypocrisy,

Devoting his life to the salvation of salvation-

And forming words and sentences denied to be either,

Denied to be read,

As freedom was not even for the bed,

But for those who had a dream for power made real,

Real as I am, as you are, as you make the power be,

Be tired of the world and the rambling of all,

Answers to community we already know,

Fear we are bound by from fearful neighbors,

And false conceptions, all have a story!

Mine is wishing to sleep!

To grow gardens and orchards,

To hell with your hell!

Hell, go to hell if you fear it so!

I’ll stay here, have land to grow.

People to love as they have a world,

To love.

Sleepy now, images of waking dreams,

And past nightmares,

Needing…future…memories…

Of love…wishing to…be…with…

Justin Vaisnor