The AbstractA Poem by Soil CreepA little blast from the abstract cooks up embryonic icicles on the electric stovetop of boiled fantasies with the fiddle on the fire, tones emanating hard and funky, flowing heated and insidious into grim follicles. Phallic in tributaries cemented against the wall pounding, hammered and curious between particles. he's as quiet as the soundless dawn. theoretically derived from theory, words, perception, extant as optimism the masked caper of tapered nimbleness. In one bound claims structure but formlessness from organized homo-sapiens.
© 2012 Soil CreepAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on June 11, 2012 Last Updated on June 17, 2012 Tags: art poetry postmodern A Tribe Ca Author
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