I grab a double-handful of hip
but still feel like I’m losing my grip.
Trying harder than hard
to grind all my problems away.
Mortar under pestle
and still we wrestle
And I’ve got her pinned again.
I’ve proven I’m a man again and again,
but still I seem further away
than when I began.
It’s alienation,
this masturbation.
If I could catch all my come
could it fill the fountain in my dreams?
One turn
of a never-ending cycle
looks very much
like any other.
Show me love,
show you love,
showing nothing
to each other.
Raise my head
in the midst of this high
and remembering rain-drenched evergreens,
sigh.
The music speaks to me,
it speaks through me
and I fly myself free.
Ah, this tremendous sense
of reality
in which I know all,
Understanding everything
is understanding nothing
is understanding everything.
Another turn
of a never-ending cycle.
First draft: 140428
Published: 231118