Spontaneous prose-Dreams of west

a spontaneous prose piece, I like to do these at certain times when your mind wanders and spits out fire.

As I sat

I stared out at the west

the old beaten west

dragged by ropes

tied by rangers and strangers

the immense road

the filthy strays

inhabitants.

Look at old paradise

risin’ in the night

a comet of air

you take one breath

and…

Don’t you know where god is?

in the attic

in the sky

pointing towards you

he asks your name

for he has no interest in the

mad ones

I think his name is Boulder

I think his name is fluttered-

through boroughs of laughs

and grass.

All the children sleeping

where children should sleep

sing songs, cry out flies

weep, by bedside with dreams

of the west.

Reviews

[Valentine]

Brings to mind all of the films of the old west when cowboy,horse, and cattle were free to roam. You write very nice. Valentine

[Lorena]

Awesome! You spit out great fire my friend :))