I needed dejection a wild seed a bleeding maniac;
but Love was filter or Love was chapters at tender segue. but a bug but bumbling
or sub-manic where adoring hypomanic women. the fool so enlove where destiny
meant for loneness or to demand Love help a dying winter. over-there, that damn
kite that damn woman thus fragmented & asking why or cringing glitter while a
cactus was such beauty. so off-key so terrorized where America is a thug. but
Love those qualities to have worked desperately while enlove with Future.
it
was wicked it was gentle it became forests. our wilderness, Love, our rosarium
chorus, so unfound as such an artifact: to dust all night; to reveal a slither;
or to give all that a man might muster: It’s not enough, our women so
fastidious, while a man must be more than he might adore. the damn piano the
reckless guitar while a soul cavalier was falling for its habits: such heaviness
or varicolored tides!
Precious
knew evenings while mornings were cravings to feel ashamed for something
demanded. the need for hands the passion for bodies the gut ruined or redeemed.
in thickness, Love, a man might die, Love, it hurts a treasured curse, Love.
I
let it torture. those psychiatry veins. if but a naïve man!
so
spoken about love, or caricatures by Asian laughs, where a woman can’t do that!
bowels refocused, a purposed so ignored, if but you, Grandpa! but a man must
live, a mother must die, if Jesus heard our names!
such
replacement! so damn pathetic. a man hating his Godlike image. such easy
pilgrimage or devastated trampled underfoot. those black scars, those blue
bars, so moved or driven to applaud. it becomes an assessment, in order to
determine the methodology of our behaviors; for one might hate a person, in
every facet, while unaware the person is dying!
