January 26 by The Running Son
+ bi-living –
Born, I was, one sad schizo-mystic.
Abstract, but so impressionistic!
The noumenal caught, canned handily
in concrete. A human oil, lubing friction.
I solar-flare, yes, then tend to moon-flip;
my lunar airs all posing sun-fit.
When analogs wax binary,
and I’m digitally taxed, I’ll relax,
let my personalities both split.
by Jim Aldrich (:
.namaste. -• ö.tH(ink)Mÿstiç •- .namaste.