Billowy towers, hovering above us,
Anchored firm to some invisible conveyor belt
That passes lazily before our upturned eyes --
Work of some celestial calliope
Whose silent music fills the sky with overtures,
And whose stops and muted swells and visible crescendos
Repaint the sky into a rainbow of pastels
And now again permit a shaft of light to find A heav'nly path to earth.
O Clouds, how much we are reminded by your distant presence --
How much reminded by your silent and imposing structure --
That we are all alone -- alone together, yes, but still alone --
A host of cosmic prisoners, left abandoned on a chunk of rock,
Forever locked inside a beautiful, incredible museum.
-- John Bryant (Bryant's Law and Other Broadsides)
isn't free! To insure the
continuation of this website and the survival of its creator in
these financially-troubled times, please send donations directly to the Birdman at
PO Box 66683, St Pete Beach FL 33736-6683
"The smallest good deed is worth the grandest intention."
contribute today - buy our books - and spread the word to all
Remember: Your donation = our survival!
* * * Back to the Home Page of John "Birdman" Bryant, the World's Most Controversial Author * * *