You light another marker, taking a break, I tell myself, As if cold ashes could lead you astray From your death-wish journey. This was the smell of dinosaurs. Ripe with mystery and riddles to unsolve Smoke signs were roaming the streets Transcending doors to become the fragrance Of flashy arcade machines in those pubs I'd never visit on my own, Not even today, when there's just the reek Of human flesh in the stale air. In the age of dinosaurs, There's a kid braving the dark With a steady supply of skeleton parts Glow-in-the-dark synthetic bones That know not the magic of fireflies Broken and torn away from the industrial mold That served him so well to cross the bridge Between death and the collector's spirit This was the breath of dinosaurs, Molten word monolith to us apes then, Pressed to become one of its many original forms, What mockery of the predators It once shaped in bone. Before the days of space age And the atomic cowboy and the wasteland fantasy so dark As it was cold then, Yet the same Waiting for a bus in the morning, In a time of long walks and a wall In the wake of dinosaurs.Birth sign: Capricorn
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