Sonic-booming in my head,
we’ve been here before.
and I carry and I wonder
in beguiled morose normality
as I ascend to above the pines
in spectacularity, where it could all go.
There is no problematic heaven and hell is on earth.
Time to do some walking,
But I rather sit in my chair and wonder how old tunes still have a deep yearning for me, undefeated. Uneducated. Still immature and hearing the same old ques.
Are they holding cards or someone dropped a memo.
Oh no, I’ve thought of that before.
petrichor - archive 