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 A nothing from nowhere cast his words to a world wide wind, and got in your eye. |
| My brain severed by song-splitting-memory, ignorance since simple college subjects studied. Cable strung decades long, spool backward through jump-cut-frames puzzled without completion. Would this be the year, just as 2025 haunts a hopeless dreamer unborn, wondering how many more seasons to skip, skitter, jump through, arrive nowhere by each year’s end — as yet clueless — misguided, but wanting to believe one dream could still exist. Wipe a slate clean. It doesn’t wash away since linear went digital. Setting this year aside. 1.3.25 With malfunction, how did I get here? This far?? But, different… "Note: 48-HOUR CHALLENGE : Media Prompt Deadl..." |
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Great poem, Brian.