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Ain't Them Red Apples

i was just thinking about eating an apple about an hour and a half ago then i finished a bowl of potatotes, but i will red cap the night off with an apple sliced nice into slices because gum

shoe i have teeth to do i have needs too i have two teeth missing one, i was just offereing to

whom the entrance of the spider legend the other i kept them they were in peices they were

i spelled it write the first time i swear it was the only thing i was ever scared about doing twice not really scared just it got nervous within me the muscle memory of the teeth breakin'

from the jawbone sounds incredible, one must be strong, one must carry the weight of time

it is sand to the hour but it is glass to the tower yet it is water dropping from the leaf of the

apple it is still in the fridge i have yet to stand still sitting pretty in the memory of the fangs

perfectly imperfect they was and cut down the middle root deep still healthy they were I saw

catch between kissing cheeky no sleepy sleepy no peakings for the duck of the world steps

no going without me, i used to say that, she would say someday once againe the rain fell

like it did back then today it did i would say but i hardly even noticed missing it i hardly even

would time end at the thought of once I thought of it it ended and the beginning was or it

wasn't again it was never ending this teh therapy session old dog always learning new things

more than one thousand diamonds drifted by in the stream i swear i could have caught them

each vision another revelry each remembrance another opening every opening another gate

each day another twisted fang turning this way and that each catch another instance of being and what it is I am talking about far and futures speak what could be could be tall tales

of history repeating and isn't funny honey ain't it grand what's the story make it count the sand again make the ocean settle it charged it to the horses hooves muddy boots i swear it

all to hell I find it captivatingly sinful the glare of spiders eyes in eight realms devised for a

mind to break in break her in thats all crow's call at the top of the morning tip top of the branch I swear just to imagine it what that is what it is Im even doing thinking about it trying to catch a glimpse of true happiness that is, understanding, which was what and how does

the landing stick how many instances of sin and what for and for whom and wherefore art thou standing then, sacred grounds, of the coffee just can't wait to believe in something to

be supposedly happening just like this apple, where is it, still in the fridge like the woman

still in the ice laid pond at the golf course for a moment twas just a thought just another hole

in the wall cat got your tongue called tough luck good plucks the petal of the metal flower

spinning and gets bluffed the world is full of swifties daggers held in hands quietly singing me a songstress seam to cut the scene and keep on swinging with the fences wrought from

time well spent digging in to define, what is an apple anyway, cut it up and touch the rug I

swear to god, i could look at it in a new light a million different times and I still could say this

I couldn't think about it again it hurts too much to be lead where was I going with this where

are we meeting is it, what could actually happen then and who is listening, it is interestingly

enough, a thought to think about and in all actuality I find the circumstances alluring at best

a way to understand how i've always felt about anything at all like being disappointed and

continuing to think what it is that you thought to begin with at the end of the day, I'm still

just me and that's a far cry from being anything at all in my book what was the point anyway

of the writing, i remember specifically the moment when I was on the subway sitting in a seat it was summer of 1915 and the hot was heat hear hear and the roads were clean and

the niggas, they was dancing, the seats they were shiny and the hats they were flying and

the poles were all still aligned back then aligned with people standing and there was space for all walking life waking up that view never gets old, the one you look at out of the window

and I said to myself, lookey here now, whats all this fuss about doing things, word like poetry

slipped out in questions out of my ears i saw the stream from my eyes there were light beams and i said to myself, lookey here now, writing, anyone can do that thing, maybe it was the word poem itself, and i said, life is like a book, i said that just right now, i don't know

what it's about but i can't seem to cover it because I might have to borrow money to go to the theatre tomorrow to see a movie and get a beer, darling, dear, i said to myself I am going in, i am going to write a poem and right exactly just about right now i said to myself

when was it i wrote the title then at the beginning or the end, death is a place i forget where

it is someone find the clown who writes down everything you think about it too much sometimes i think about things i wish i didn't and sometimes i fight for the dream to stay I

wonder sometimes if people have dreams of me, I question everyday what people think and

I am constantly moved by the way things are unfoldering, where people seem to be I just dont know how they know but they always know exactly what I don't know until I do and after

that, I got one slice of apple left, all i know is this, and I will live by it, things downstream get

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