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Fallout
Words and Music By Anne Stott


Where's the love?
That's not a rhetorical question.
Do you have any suggestion?
All my contemplations come up empty.
I don't need
All life's questions answered.
Just a few to be heard,
As if they matter to someone other than me.
Existential, hypothetical, I get lost inside the spherical fallout with no shelter, I call my brain.
Here's my body.
I can't discern its purpose
From his and hers and yours if
We're all on different sojourns
What's getting done?
And are we
Feeling finding love?
Or just ships run aground?
Crossed stars shooting around
Each other's night.
Existential, hypothetical, I get lost inside the spherical fallout with no shelter, I call my brain.
Existential, hypothetical, I get lost inside the spherical fallout with no shelter, I call my brain.
I don't need
All life's questions answered.
Just a few to be heard,
As if they matter to someone other than me.
Existential, hypothetical, I get lost inside the spherical fallout with no shelter, I call my brain.
Existential, hypothetical, I get lost inside the spherical fallout with no shelter, I call my brain.

© 2007 Anne Stott. All rights reserved.
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