The Number Twenty Two or 12 and 10

Twin aliens
On a 51-50
Watch me,

I counted 22 crows
Eating
In the muddy field

As I walked home.


Broken promises,
Memories half-true,

Sailing in an ocean
Above the moon.

'Instrument immortal,
Tree of all roots.'

Mother of all visions,
Father of fortune,

All fantastic emanations,
Any illusion,

All truth:
All strings must pull,

Or be pulled.
Different towns,

Same news.
To the tune of the former,

Many new awakening,
One noose,

One neck,
One death, mem

The ocean all around,
Many now drown,

Only thing I know
Is Maya, the soup of existence,

But I count 22 crows
Eating
In a muddy field

As I walk home
And gaze into the distance.