Friday, September 11, 2009
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In absolutely profound nonsense, Unto the uttermost reaches of rhyme, In synchrony with the dance of nonlinear oscillations, Of an atomic clock striking the hourly chime, I sing my song, my chorus, of creation unbridled by mind, A sort of chaos ever present, in cranial hood evanescent, Bound by none but good cheer kept, and often by fiercer passions swept, In short a very small window into the person I suspect myself to really be...