Rust of Change
Once you see it, you need to keep it a secret that you know.
It is impossible to Un-know anything,
just as it is impossible to conceal that you know.
So write, in allegory, this game of word-association.
Like pigs and Larger Bretheren, always seeing the watch is on,
…
both hands on the zero o’clock.
Cross-section of culture reveals orientation, straight grain; oiled gears squeak not.
Japhy, June 22, 2017
Rusty stops, looks brown.
The touch of the air against molecules of water, chemical change, flaking off, metal turns; played-with-fire burns. The teller of the truth really never learns.
The silent mind churns, unseen.
All continents are holy lands, differently nested than the number of terns.
Jibberish, up above.
Shiverous- the, “shut-up!-” Shove!
Protecting the fellow man is a strange gamble.
The in-breath is the only tangible preamble.