Smart Boy Jones Cleans Everything But the Baby (For JRP)

smart boy jones

The narrative of your native tribe

Will blend brown till like copper,

A mineral yet to be mined, known

Or yet to be named.

 

Deserts were oceans, forests maybe,

Where now only waves of wind break

On the stories we fill in there

To keep the Mystic company;

 

A man brokering his own philosophy

Can get mighty lonely at times

And needs more of a companion

Than the bosom of the earth provides.

 

Withdraw your posts,

Unbarb your wire,

Let the stock roam freely

Until the sands run green again.

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