Follow the signs if you have been lead astray. The world is a big place, the mind even bigger. We are bound to get caught up and balled up in our own emotions, our traumas, life events. Sounding off exorbitant ears trimming the prices so that all can participate in the grand scheme of parlance. Ostrich oshkosh b’gosh baby clothes jamboree. Signals over the air. Thursday songs that are the way my soul moves around, and it cries out like Geoff Rickly’s voice sometimes. An age old tale down the line motivating quarrelsome antidotes, sparking panicked rebellion, mistaking no one for countdown. Misuse milling about Sundays painting signposts and guideposts. Invisible angels tell us without wings we are nothing but what we aspire to be. Keeping that kernel of knowledge, of truth, of death experience tucked away. Is it because it is beyond words? Noting and noticing endless crucifixion, dancing wax poetic upon fields of grain. This is the America I know and love. In some Coachella desert where the floor has never been mopped. Dry air. Symbolizing stagnation and the heat of stillness. I must move and make a move so that internal muscles realize that they are being called upon. Lovers betwixt –

Author: Roe

30. she/her. Songwriter & Trek Punk Soul™.

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