the naked man walks up the stairs
there’s nothing much about which he cares
and he is going on and on
the naked man has been here for long
.
he sits every night atop his roof
and listens to the animals bark and woof
he stuffs his ears with cotton
and hides his eyes behind sandpaper
and if anybody comes knocking
the naked man pays no attention
and puts it for later
.
he kisses the wind and
rolls back his head
like he is satisfied and already dead
he opens his eyes and looks at the stars
the little stones burning afar
he rubs his eyes and then rubs his skin
and he opens his throat
like the naked man is finally gonna sing.
Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.
Beautiful!!
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Thank you Lia ❤️❤️
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Excellent piece. Enjoyed it!
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Thanks man! Really appreciate your words. I was listening to Dylan almost all day and thought about writing something.
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Dylan has the same effect on me! It’s hard not to be swept up in his wave of creativity!
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Agree completely!
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