Gnawing on the bones of the dead
Like a rabid dog oozing
Infected creative juices
Drenched with sweat
Begging for the hot coals and fire
Walking the path
Staying in line
Past, present, and future aligning
A transaction of transferrence
& Agreements well met
Transmutation in transmission
Third gear is grinding
Sometimes getting stuck
In the mud, muck, and mire
Good thing we have 4 wheels
Two hands to drive
One friend to hold the space
& Pretty pictures of smiles
Writ all across our face

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