
A Middleaged Man Who Was Only Twenty-Two Comes Crashing Down From The Sky Pilot, pilot your way down. Crash burning into the field And let the rain wash the blood Away. Run to the shed, steal some hay For your bed. Wrap your wounds, Pat down the hair on your bonny Head. You must remain precious. |
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April 16, 2005
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For some reason this reminds me of that scene in Shrek 2 where he and his clan crash in some farmer's barn and practically get raped by his daughter's the next morning. But somehow I don't think that's what you were going for
It feels intentional, and somewhat desirable; unpleasant and terribly risky, but somehow the abandon of it serves some as-yet-undetermined purpose.
Now I'm going off on weirdass 'if we were all pilots at once, that'd be fun' sort of tangents, so I'm going to turn my brain to a different channel.
--
This is not a signature.
an enjoyable, thought provoking read as always
--
I'm Nobody! Who are you?
Are you -- Nobody -- too?
Then there's a pair of us?
Don't tell! they'd advertise -- you know!
Emily Dickinson
--
To twist one purest cause
Into an honest verse,
Itself, a call to angels.
The saddened lips of song that
Kiss away our innocence
From the vile mundane.
~justb
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