A twisted poem about opening up my head to see what is inside? |
-This Head is Open- by Keaton Foster A can of mush Spilled out nuts This head is open More physical Than literal What’s inside When everything Is poured out wide Nothing Not conventionally But rather rhetorically Stupid is as stupid does And it was I That willfully held the can opener Each turn of its mechanism Made me feel a bit more alive Being alive What an unfamiliar feeling Such an untrue reason That we must contend with Life was given to each of us Little else do I dare suggest I of course knew I without question understood That such a loss of pressure Would result in the end A hell of a thing The end that is This head is open What’s inside is nothing Same as before Dare I further suggest Same as forever more Life in the sense of a beat Has nothing to do with What I am being allowed to see Clarity rings true A beautiful understanding At such a perilous intersection Oh’ nothing I wonder as I die Do you dream Wondrous would be a reply There is of course none This head is open What is inside has come out Nothing is the only God Of all that soon remains… This Head is Open Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013 |