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Can you count on one hand
The fingers you have lost
Or do His laws prohibit the search?

Can you hear with one ear
Your name being called
Or do His trumpets swallow up the sound

You live your life in a cigarette
And the detector's got no double A's
This elephant's been heading west
Soon he'll being crashing down your door
Can't you feel the billowing smoke hole
Burrowing through your teeth and tounge
Pencil Lead is fed up with sketching
So he puts the eraser in his mouth

He pulls the trigger

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The following comments are for "Rubble"
by PeriwinkleMoses

America the beautiful (?)
that's what I heard when I read this. played on a wonky calliope. Obviously. And with forked tongue definitely in cheek... but then I've been reading Kurt Vonnegut lately, so...

I was going to say, for me this poem is about the dangers of delegating the responsibility of thinking to other people/ or forces/ or institutions... but now maybe I'm not so sure...

Your poems are like Rorschach tests, and for that reason I enjoy them. though they scare me... a bit.

( Posted by: AuldMiseryGuts [Member] On: March 20, 2007 )

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