COLD CLIMATE FIELD GROWN PLANTS


ryan says
in twelve point sans serif:

you can't keep god off the radio:
i shaved my beard. and the weather is cold.
pianos are nice. and its almost october.
school is very boring. and reminds me of high school.
my parents think im on drugs. like coke. and that im not doing my school work.
im not on drugs. and im getting all my school work done.
there are people that follow me. and cause trouble for my personnal life.
i dont like where i am. and i dont plan on staying here long.

there is a place where the waters grow. and the trees flow like wine.
i have traveled years to get here. and now im driving away.
i can feel a change.
fire grows on the branches.
god wont smile now.

and although i feel parts of it sound like stairway to heaven (sans a hedgerow) i kinda like it.
and then i say...in eleven point garamond:

the discontent with your disassociative elitist defeatism deserves a good hard kick in the...
however
ever enjoyable the misconstrued misconceptions of those who came
before you coupled with the cognitive pressure applied to you
you must
stand on the shoulders of giants
and look beyond the water
to the sway of a willlow tree
dipping its toe leaves in the water
of every sight you've never s(c)een(e)
you must disassociated your actions form you meanings
until the end justifies the means of mentality
and end up bleeding

the new coloured ink
that will leak from your veins
the new swollen days that will sink
too quickly away

you will
never write like this again
if it truly is all like high school
why are you writing [so]? well,

embrace the new found glory
(not the band)
of this new frustration

and bleed ink
onto every page.

Indeed.