Saturday, March 12, 2011

Occam's Razor

Thus he and his conscious
Body were worthy
To walk this
To simplify,
And go on pausing slothful
Missions, go around
Erecting thrift and farms and
Cash box priests and voices
Calling out when the land
Them composed of judgment if
Ye seek him if ye forsake him,
Which they have wrought upon the
The land beneath them
Yearning to liquefy
Masonry fire on water, the abundance
Pointing across his face, shifting
To simplify, to

If only he and his
Conscious body were able to
Try a little bit harder to
Do a bit more, if only
Carrion plentiful borne by
Waves of plummeting fires, shaking
Graves the price of his calling,
But simplicity is not the only
Elegance and chaos stretches
Beyond the lust for
The error in his conscious
Body flexed against the
Onslaught silently
Surging against his knees
Bare feet and arms carved up
And smashed against the
Toothpick buildings and
Flooding trees,
To simplify and justify, and
Seek to call a treason for his
Voluptuous life he
Will forsake you.

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