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Curiosity most curious.

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In the back of my brain
somewhere past the centre of my vision
(turn left at inspiration
try not to hit my conscience
it's pretty small so you might miss it)
little seeds of doubt
still so full of intrigue in their nebulous charm
fall or are planted
among the fields and metallic tracks for trains of thought
and will soon grow into gardens
which will undoubtedly remind me of Eden and I'll waste too much time
looking for the Knowledge Tree
so when the imaginary breeze blows by
ruins a perfectly quiet monday morning
and causes a windfall to land on the shaky ground
I'll give thanks to gravity
for reminding me my journey's not complete
that I never really learnt a thing
in ten years of school so far
I'll put the apple to my ear
to see if a worm can tell me something new
something profound, or poetic, or true
'cause maybe there's a god below the ground
and we're too hedonistic/materialistic/narcissistic, to notice
afraid to get our brand new shoes all muddy
like my dress (oh s*** she's gonna kill me) and earthy knees, but I'm told while I'm still a child it's okay,
though soon I'll have to grow up and be like everybody else because first comes love then comes marriage then comes pause for a mid-life crisis, fretting oh someday I know she'll leave me 'cause I'm gettin' sick 'n' tired of these nerves in my spine catching each touch or lack of such
..and I suppose it's possible that I will have a grand old revelation, realise all I've been looking for was marriage and some children:
But I think I'll probably spend my seconds wandering aimless into hours
noises blendingtogetheronapaintpalletteuntilitallgoesgrey like everything goes grey
in
the
end
looking for the answer or the question in the dregs of last night's coffee
though each epiphany wracks me like a Pyrrhic victory,
then.. sitting down on swingsets to taste the salt of nostalgia
wondering how it all went by so fast
but not really caring
because I'll be too preoccupied with semantics and hypotheticals and wondering if there's a universe in my mind,
hoping it won't explode while I'm still alive
create some planets and a solar system
brand new people to go crazy with extentialism
while still-unfolding starmaps
wrap their twinkling fingers
around my cerebral cortex
and the back of my brain....
somewhere past vision turn left at inspiration try not to hit my conscience tracks for trains knowledge tree monday morning worm dress marriage grey swingset universe fingers brain....



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