so
low in the temple surrounded by birds so cursive so depth-riddled or crosswise
a scream; so indebted or an ocean so blue while father has escaped the dream
the phantom the blood blue moonshine; an empty mind so filled with darkness
while no one fathoms the cross the yoga the buddha. as never myself or so
dipping into channels while Love is orange or green or purple come a good drift
the agony the pain so low or right there so America to feel emotion; but we’ll
be fine or we’ll seek hell while demons offer a little comfort: the man in the
curtain the daughter in the veil while a father is so damn nervous. a
kindergarten feeling a grade school death or reasoning where he isn’t there.
this gut Jesus this flame Christ—while I need it right this second! the flame
the girth the brooks! so enlove with losing a man his problems where a daughter
watches, passes assessment or granny fell a floor & screamed out for
redemption. this place I know. this space I won. while it was shivers or dice
or dust-mites! so much to give or love or so jaded it flickers into a
blackhole. it hurts to fall so far those backwoods into life or guts where
seeing beauty might kill a father! I escaped you to find torture while no one
escaped. such inauguration such augmentation while life was so much those gray
lines: to imagine pure anger, to aside pure rage, so damn disgusted. this
emptiness this drape those dark vines to partake to come back to drift neatly!
