Creator

Meat Puppets

Everybody's got some kind of

belief about creator

Some say openly "I don't know"

Some build elevators

To take the chosen few

who can afford the scenic view

To the top of some big tower

looking down on fields of blue

Walking clouds on caves of emptiness

that fall around their mind

To flirt openly with vapor

and the trail it leaves behind



Fences fly and sidewalks cry

concerning our creator

Turning loose the butterfly

that ate the alligator

Picking up its open-ended

holographic roots

It moved out to the tower

to look down on me and you

Walking caves of empty water

in the boring morning rain

Making love to open windows

And the vapor trails refrain