BLOOD drips like water in
this greasy tub, cultures break away,
as you wash this fever off, time explodes,
as you shut your old mans eyes, is this
for real, or a dream from your wicked
mind, .
OLD man, wake up.
OLD man, wake up.
OLD man, wake up,
for this is your baptism,
and the death of your old
ways.................
DAVID...MUCH TO DO ON THE FITZ SAGA...I LIKE IT ALL SO FAR... ABSTRACTIVITY IS THE CUTTING EDGE OF THE INDUSTRY....ASK STEVEN KING...A TEN 4 FITZ 7402 '''''''''''FRANK
Frightening image, David. For 'cultures' I first read 'vultures' and the juxtaposition made it quite nightmarish. L
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is excellent, You have me hooked. I keep thinking I have to go to bed now. I will read a few more. Take care