Pipe Charka Poem
Peter Franzen People-Blogs 2012-11-08 - 17:38:00
"A poem that I wrote a few evenings ago. Chakra Pipe My Saturday evening pipe smoke Is as exclusive as the hairs on your arm. Red Stag at the base of the spine, Mississippi River over the spleen: I am the original, bisexual man, As I am dressed, I am. My Sunday morning pipe smoke Is lavish spiritual butter, eaten in Jesus garage, with Captain Black over the solar plexus & Three Oaks over the heart- I am a convinced friend, A marked butch experiencing true shifts. My Monday evening pipe smoke is painful self-analysis, A quaterno of tigerness/uselessness; altar/garage with Eureka at the front of the throat. I am Smooth between the eyebrows, An Old Dog in my head."
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