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Kabuki's got nothing on this art form, baby.
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December 2010
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Kabuki's got nothing on this art form, baby. [userpic]

There's so much to tell you
And no time to talk.

Exhale, inhale, exhale,

That's where the hand goes
Down and to the side.

Then make it
To the other edge.

For fear of my brain
Exploding out of my head

With ideas but instead
My ideas explode.

Before I can even

Then I wait for the idea
To come clear

From the wreckage.

Periscope at the edge
Of a fence

Watching, looking
I'm lost with two mirrors

And no self-defense.

I'm pretty sure I'm also
Not wearing pants. 

So then, how is this,
Any of this,

A good idea?

To go on about some
Concept announcement

Without the single edged
Sword of a copywriter?

Purely hysterical. 

In the sense of not being
Able to breathe

Because I'm drowning

And I'm sure that its water
But my lungs say its air.

Air it is.