Sedition

By | 28 November 2006

Music is the calm of a bracelet, girdle, helmet
inside words don't matter
I've found no terror in the package the song contains
there's a type of blue it resembles, one not grown ancient
the patina was freedom or something resembling the ability to finish the joke
they call for calm – you must give it up
standing on the platform with the sick trains
there are laws all around me
and the wind and the road, what of them?

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