| = rock|
|ancient trade routes are |
the liquid roots
of nuclear extravagance
I like your poems. Especially "an image of a thought"
Start that band you've been dreaming of. Words are beautiful instruments.. but I'd rather use a fender stratocaster + an axe + a couple of shadows (to go with the mushrooms and the mechanical catterpillars). Seek insanity. Float in your own "self chosen" madness. This way... even if you don't become a notorious self-destructive poet, you still get the chance to meet the god that has been waiting in the corner of your room.
a rock band... this is what I see in your poems. rock and roll.