Shaman

Shaman

Crisp Rigid and Green

The Pilot flying was as firm as a fall apple

But when he crashed, he burst

Into a florid psychogenic mold

He said

“There is no salvation

Strictly come as you are

Heaven and hell in my breast”

In his new form

Joseph took up the dead

To explain the works of the living

No man owns a soul

No book dictates where it goes

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