Words is words is words is words Words is hurdles and wing-clipped, poor birds Words is a field with a ramshackle fence Running barbed-wire rings...
She was cold and she was tired She'd seen it all and she'd walked for miles in those shoes But everybody looked right through her Afraid that they...
Born of a dream I had recently . It's the future. Electricity is no longer an option. Technology is now powered by plants. A crazy, progressive scientist has learned how to harvest the telepathic power of plants and can send messages through trees, grass etc. On top of that, other things that we thought impossible are happening. You can watch organic TV with phosphors. Wires are roots with fast flowing xylem (or is that phloem?). Forests are alive in a different way because of it. Insects move differently. The air smells pure. At night everyone sleeps. We live again mostly according to the light of the sun.
Woven deeply with mud and rain The mossy flesh monster howls Dug from the rotten, tight-wound roots With axes and picks and trowels In a halo of steam he reaches and wails