You breath like a poodle. <br />Your veins are dry. <br />You are haunted by a <br />past perceived as omniscient. <br /> <br />In the enchanted present, <br />every day is Christmas, <br />even in the land of burning <br />strawberries, where ghosts <br />rollerskate on the edge <br />of a nightmare. <br /> <br />Drink the wine! <br />It will unlock your heart, <br />give wings to the stars <br />within you, and calm the <br />multitudes of menopausal crones <br />waiting to steal your soul. <br /> <br />Change your name to Mars. <br />Realize the known <br />is your greatest enemy. <br />It forces you to <br />ignore the miraculous.<br /><br />David Kowalczyk<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/de-minimus-non-curat-lex/
