The Purpose of Life is to Ask if Life has a Purpose
L. Edgar Otto 20 June, 2013
Bouffant the hive of hair is numbered in the
poet species Bufo lines in sparrow fall that
We Celebrate our Clutch
Conserve what we Deserve so
Freeze the Happenstance where error looms
in graying Heirloom Imperfection
In Monologue Observe Oodles by Osmosis
Preserve dockyard Punk dry our heart's
Reserve of scars once a Riverbed
Lava Saturate all who Singe or Soar
wherefore we Transfuse with dew the atmosphere
by our often flimsy Transparent Whimsy
* * * *
Wonderfully creative .... those words look great in (your) print.
ReplyDeleteAsking my self now if life has a purpose and what is mine...always searching for my answer!
ReplyDeletefun. love that title.
ReplyDelete