Contributed by WJ Neatby, received November 21, 1998

An Assembly of Friends

In a cage, will the artist see
The bars or the spaces between?
The people, or those places that seem
So remote? So serene...

Bernard Marx has stopped running.
We watch the shadows leave his eyes
Now the drummer has stopped drumming
The rhythms out of time...

Somewhat Arcadia,
Somewhere Descartes is rolling over-
And I is forever, angel,
This mind in my body cage:

Circle around me, my friends
And vultures, in perfect form
Imperfect anomaly sit.
And what you wouldn't guess about me,
You'd miss about me...voice without feel.

Australia, you hold such beauty,
Ton, blinded, apple-eye concrete -
Pretender or not, this is me,
And I love all your trees...

Somewhat Arcadia,
Somewhere Descartes is rolling over-
Exist as only one, to weigh
My sack of sand, day to day.

Circle around me, my friends
And vultures, in perfect form
Imperfect anomaly sit.
And what you wouldn't guess about me,
You'd miss about me...voice without feel.

I wouldn't start here!
I wouldn't love fear,
In assembly, defending
All my ideas
from you...

I wouldn't start here!
I wouldn't love fear,
In assembly, defending
All my ideas
from you...

Circle around me, my friends
And vultures, in perfect form
Imperfect anomaly sit.
And what you wouldn't guess about me,
You'd miss about me...voice without feel.

---

Last Five
treasure - Thursday, Sept. 06, 2006
need - Sunday, May. 22, 2005
where is here - Friday, May. 13, 2005
save me. - Monday, May. 09, 2005
nonsense - Sunday, May. 01, 2005

ALL