Rust On The Rust

from by Scanning Antarctica

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Rust on the Rust

Scratching the surface…no fear of the portent
Plastic to progress

The chafe on the skin of the world…is hidden
The largesse fermented yet all is forgiven
They’ve taken…all but me
The shoots lay all around they’ve been jarred from the tree
When the feeling comes when less is some but more than none
Than logic is done…I can see
Soon the feeding comes with bleeding gums
And the magic of the rising sun falls through the sea

And my breathing is hard…still I’m feeling
You just can’t blink and stop what you’ve ever known
Disharmony has shored up the blight of our days

Gold lines, fleck into me, so cash in on the weight of our flesh
Still you wander the ants to the end alone
As we purchase redux from the friends you know

Wise and saintly, never breaking
Torch the thrill it’s yours for taking
Suck the marrow…toss the bacon
Feel and fly, patronize and stand aside it’s your own guise
Ennui…is blinding
Wretched self-coring…a mild sense of nothing
Fasting our druthers while others keep doing the same
Thing pending, never ending…

Parched by a sham that will rip you asunder
Quenched by a thirst that will never subside
What keeps our toes tapping?
It’s not the rust on the pipe…it’s the rust on the rust


from Bipolar Winter, released June 17, 2014



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