Warren Shaw    |    Interdisciplinary artist

1.66 : 27.09.08

 

It’s about everything and everyone, and everyone and everything you have ever been. It fills the tunnel. With all but a string to follow. Is there light at the end or just golden irresponsible snow? I mean no one knows. They might but we all know that. My side hurts. Did you decide that? We are here but should we be there holding onto the brass coated light. Hanging on for the clear sights and intoxicants offered as a bounty to the senses of a crowd. Or shall we just stand and not care, find a way out of here. I mean I’m in the right place but my own face finds fault. What trickery to lead straight and then left to dwell on the wire? My own life a pyre. Silly I’m not on fire. Yet. Growth is prevalent from ear to ear. To absorb the folly I find near. Noise faculty. My personal façade finds little use when all is said and done. Hey we should stand as one. Why not? He says money well he means sensual pride falling out the rear of this over soaked joke of a career, indeed its like falling into a pot of jelly and cream. Although I do like jelly. I laugh at night when I talk to deer. I find nothing to do in fear. Just remember, scream if it’s not clear. It may well sort out the pigs from the leaves. I begin now with a terrestrial earache. The bad intentions of years to come, with all the sound come undone into a spiral of golden fear? Such a pity to imagine. Its possible but we can’t let it down. Set it down on the cold boiling ground. This is there. I know its clear but still I’ve just got noise from ear to ear.

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