a ten minute rant on war crafts

can it not see how we are
how we remain
almost how we seem to be
seem to be something other
something more then ourselves
let it be known that when i walk the streets
more then angry drivers pass over me
more then honking horns of silence
more then a midnight sky pacing
more then a tall building waving
when i walk the streets
i see what can't be seen
a blank canvas
a canvas that blends in to the street
a canvas with lines of yellow
and deep crosses of black
one that looks more like a honey bee when you see the
real thing
a canvas flowering from the core
an open and waiting door
a canvas with a heart waiting to burst
colors of red and pink
more like a garden of dyed mink
a canvas with split edges
and sharp corners
like an atari game but a little warmer
a canvas that shakes when you groove
a canvas that taps when you move
a canvas dancing on the earths core
waiting just waiting by that open door
this canvas not like the others
its a canvas of wills and wonts
filled with yes and no
a canvas for just me no one else
a canvas for the curves of my hips and lips
a human