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Outlined Epitaphs

8.

Yes, I am a thief of thoughts

not, I pray, a stealer of souls

I have built an’ rebuilt

upon what is waitin’

for the sand on the beaches

carves many castles

on what has been opened

before my time

a word, a tune, a story, a line

keys in the wind t’ unlock my mind

an’ t’ grant my closet thoughts backyard air

it is not of me t’ sit an’ ponder

wonderin’ an’ wastin’ time

thinkin’ of thoughts that haven’t been thunk

thinkin’ of dreams that haven’t been dreamt

an’ new ideas that haven’t been wrote

an’ new words t’ fit into rhyme

( if it rhymes, it rhymes

if it don’t, it don’t

if it comes, it comes

if it won’t, it won’t)

 

no I must react an’ spit fast

with weapons of words

wrapped in tunes

that’ve rolled through the simple years

teasin’ me t’ treat them right

t’ reshape them an’ restring them

t’ protect my own world

from the mouths of all those

who’d eat it

[…..]

 

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