Comments about Awrr Zee
The lumberjack who doesn’t discriminate
Rotten trees, termites up and down the
flaking wood. Boards peeling, white flesh exposed,
dying tree, say hi, to your future abode.
To the left and the right, afraid to speak,
afraid to see, to see the seas of trees, that fly
with wings and leaves, branches flaying
wild and scared. The scared sacred tree,
afraid for its own conscience, seeing the man
with the pillow and key, sneaking into your house, through
your bedroom window, the window, the window, and soft,
who goes there? You slumber, deep, dreaming and ...