101 words on Adam Green
There are men in shades just standing around,
these bleeding stars – the paradox
that the eyes of god be our guard
to find the gentle path.
There's a broken record playing a tune,
to the floating waves of the antennas,
and you're just a little guy
and I was little, too.
And everything is just floating freely,
just rocking around like a rocking horse,
just dribbling around like silly putty,
and who are you and I?
And you're looking at me smiling,
the aliens were just arriving,
wherever they are headed next –
speaking secret tongues.
Adam Green, Secret Tongues
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