the dream is of a large vanilla house
with windows that easily look out beyond the autumn sun
glimmering off the sea
and of the stone city that lays beside the sea
all its back streets and boulevards
shadows in the sky
some of us are stark naked here
fat naked bodies in the city beside the sea
food isn't always plentiful
and the women are like sugars on ice
the marijuana buds are in full bloom by now
the THC making ringlets of light
our eyes showing off all of their veins
we drift deeper into hallowed hues
and will never forget the passage of Time
we will walk slower than the average bear
we will click against the shocks of people growing in the streets like hair
and will discover a comb in the Wild Earth
of those the others they will gather and share
they will make conversation our enemy
slowly fondling the bones in their hair
© 2006 Patrick Bissell