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Silver clouds
rain like kisses
empty and nasty
make me feel cold
little pretty hate machines
little microbes that wreck like buildings
old chinese
skateboard children
singing and breaking
flash photography
and mobile phones
I walk the same ways
that one hundred men have done
I walk the same ways
and feel angry and pastoral
weeds at my feet
wont trip me over
At least for today
The river is dirty
The river is pretty
Feels like love
Feels like your hand
When you reach for my hand
Without really thinking
Just what it means
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"Do not tell lies, and do not do what you hate,
for all things are plain in the sight of Heaven. For nothing
hidden will not become manifest, and nothing covered will remain
without being uncovered."
The Gospel of Thomas
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