I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through
Friday, November 11, 2016
Scenes from a Commute
One of the problems with trying to get images during my commute is that with almost every view there is a crap-ton on wires on poles in the frame.
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