it is the atomic weight of it that matters most. <br /> <br /> violent barbiturate toungues empty coffee cups <br /> and deliver the insight. <br /> <br /> before there was religion there <br /> was foldgers dry roast. <br /> <br /> before the lunar landing there <br /> was instant oatmeal. <br /> <br /> still my toungue is heavy with saliva. <br /> <br /> i shall not lie. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> it is the form that matters least. <br /> <br /> the patient deconstruction of all <br /> unsound perspectives. <br /> <br /> bright and ultra bright scientific <br /> notations fell from heaven like lightening. <br /> <br /> the witnesses annotated cauterized edges <br /> and spoke in the most literal sense. <br /> <br /> before there was a mother there <br /> was a mosaic womb. <br /> <br /> before there was a helix faith <br /> there was a clay parable. <br /> <br /> still the pencil aches in the <br /> palm of my hand. <br /> <br /> i shall not murder. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> it is the face of the masses that matters most. <br /> <br /> catching low tide shells in between shallow moons. <br /> <br /> fringed hands count down the gene pool legend, <br /> seperated only by accented lips. <br /> <br /> before there was a cleric in a robe <br /> there was a tilt in the axis. <br /> <br /> before there was a fat bellied fertility goddess <br /> there was a splinter in a finger. <br /> <br /> still my stomach is full of acrid <br /> compound naratives. <br /> <br /> i shall not want.<br /><br />nathan martin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/freeze-dryed/