thought of command

you can’t take the longer road
without first
mapping the shorter path

as the pain from the tooth burrows deeper into my jaw
i try to pull away long enough to think
the times when you would not find me
without a glass of wine in my hand

but these days is like there is no energy left for bad habbits
even smoking seems like just another way
for the government to tax my inadequacy

the wine stopped working is all
no moral highground for me
half the world is worried about dying
the other half doesn’t know what dying IS

depends on where you are on the spiral
if going inward, death is more horror than you can imagine
if outward on the spiral
death is the fading into one
and endings are designed by the
thought of man
there is really no such thing as endings
only barest movement from one thing to the next

on the outward spiral
spirit still grows
mind is still free
in still of the night

from you into you
it is man who ties
so invalidate man

you into you …
we were not born to kiss the sky
there are other dances
remember the code

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