It’s hard to resist
it’s hard to subsist
in that subversive
way of blending
while unraveling
in a juvenile way
and so we are slaves
to our myopic quiet
a foreigner
in the planet he was born in
I crept up on you
and tapped
but you looked the other way
and what could I say?
resting on the cusp of your eyeline
creeping at the edge of a design
where Spirits collide
and dreams ride
where skeptism dies
where underdogs rise
these blues aren’t bruising
when we are cruising
blunderous waves
over knaves
over graves
so man our battle stations
that’s your vocation

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