I am following thoughts
Like a male dog sniffing crotch
My mind is like that of the sensitive snout
Yet rather than nasal delight
I encounter ideas
Morbid, sweet, or sexed might they be
Nonetheless they are IDEAS
AND they are MINE
I have the lasso around my reason
Thus I can capture
That which attempts to run by
Yet I am becoming ever seasoned
Knowing that which causes the stir
I'll allow it time to saute
Just for a moment
As to over think a thought
Will drive it into bedrock
Ceasing its freedom of movement
Scribble scribble scribble - 4/22/06
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