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The Taste

For Layne …

 There is a sun that never sets;

a cloud that never rains.

There is a bird that always sings;

a song that never dies.

 

There is a town that never sleeps;

a heart that always pumps.

There is a tear that never cries;

 

a dream that never wakes.

 

And then somewhere

between the Porsche

and gardens green and lush;

an eight ball hides inside a bag;

a dragon chasing bombs.

 

I soloed wings

in Amsterdam;

my rig, my point, my works.

Brown sugar takes the taste away;

of life, of love, of luck.

 

There is a sky where dragons fly

at night when you’re in bed..

Where songs are wrote in mud and snow;

of things you’ll never seek.

 

There is a house in – Montreal;

where music isn’t free.

You have to ante with your – life;

and bet – on number three.

 

They love us all and pay us well;

white ghosts without a face.

They sell our lives to you and yours …

until our veins – bleed clear.

 

Brown sugar – takes – the taste – away.

Brown sugar – takes – the taste

Brown sugar – takes and takes and takes

until – the end – is typed.

 

 

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9 thoughts on “The Taste

  1. very lyrical and expressive, loved the imagery and depth you sculpted into your words in this. I loved:

    “There is a sky where dragons fly

    at night when you’re in bed..

    Where songs are wrote in mud and snow;

    of things you’ll never seek.

    There is a house in – Montreal;

    where music isn’t free.

    You have to ante with your – life;

    and bet – on number three.”

    This chain particularly moving. Send love and peace my friend~ Rose

  2. This was really interesting, Henry. When it first started out, it seemed upbeat; but by the time it concluded it went full circle and down, down, down. I had not realized, until reading Brian’s comment, that brown sugar was heroin. Yikes… The ending blew me away!

  3. Becky says:

    I always love coming here and reading you.
    Sometimes I think, “boy I hope Henry is pissed off today!” 🙂

    This is great, lyrical, a bit melancholy.

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