2002-01-16

Sometimes I like to
Lay comatose
And let the storms
In my head rage
My thoughts form tornados
And mix debris from old ideas
A rain of thread
With which to bind
Unused fragments
That didn't work well
On thier own
The lightning happens
When the weaving of these patterns
Bring flashes of new
Untested ideas
And the hail from the
Solidification of unlike thoughts
Then my eyes will roll
Into the back of my head
And my hand moves
To write down
The vision of my inner light show

~Matt Magus (as if you didn't know by now)

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