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Philo Philo Philo between agents / and exoantigens

are swimming in his blood ambient outside air vapors

make him hungry but food isn’t on the menu /

an attendant appetite dictates get high – holy smoke opium

/ Philo still a struggling painter obsessed with tired old western

image of artist / pancake beret scarf / needs everyone to see him

this way validating a personal delusion / wears fake armor of his craft

today is different bright November sun warms 3/4 waltz time thru

that beret onto bald pate / under bald pate a brain must decide

– he needs money hell so keep it

he’ll hold onto that cylinder his archaeology student chums

smelling profit so quietly appropriated from the dig

/ unknown unknowns and sunbeams lie napping on old workbench

/ Philo Philo

and exoantigens

are killing fast your blood


copyright 2016







About a. edward watkins

With the exception of 2 years study of western music theory and harmony- I am a self taught percussionist, writer and abstract painter. Not your drummer boy drummer - not your writerly writer nor the painterly painter. Creativity is an integral aspect of my existence - as it is for us all - in some form or another. My experiences in life have informed and shaped my world view profoundly. I am the disrupter - the never quite satisfied - the relentless creator of word, sound and image. I question the answers and question the questions.

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