the cold alleys those colonized our houses on high—a mad black man a sinning sister while Sarah married a gelid German. or angelic such ghosts where Tiffany went ballistic. granny’s into voodoo, mother was Catholic, & father’s Baptist. combined as crazy a son made amazing while suffering tribulation. Angie went Hindu, Asia went Buddhist, while Linda is Wiccan—the witch in the Warlock, as creatures grappling with energies. Bobby went Yogi. Tracey’s a Scientologist. & Tanya’s a Methodist. I disappear I return those aches are similar; so self-adjusted our best behavior while no one is susceptible. it was easy those years the reputation hit I can’t fathom our complication. but sweet licorice or sweeter candy as laughing for it gets easier. the fields are up set aflame while Love is dancing the body glows the fever it toxic a soul becomes a chemical.
Robert is Navy or Charles in Army—they love to fight.
George just hit Soledad a mad persona such a yard for two grams. Angelica made
wife, three kids, while on her forth; the father is uncertain but Herve loves
Angel, & truly is disinterested—by fire in a grave to touch a casket where
spirits chime in literature.
Willy is a liar or Christie is enlove while Roger just
came home. Those furious flavors those furnaced parks while Peggy loves her
Labradors.
the pain they
give, as postcolonial, aside a political so economic. a 5 a.m. screwdriver a
fifth of intolerance as wondering why the psych is irritable. we never fathom,
the worth of color, while many are sensitive to our behaviors. the slave in me,
I battle his ass, while feeling awkward. so many fires such a keel where
slavery-thoughts are genetic. such a maniac for Love, so attentive to Love,
while his mind was conflicting rudiments. the angst of the mulatto the uneasiness
of the quadroon while fleeing something went sour. to hang with Paul, as he
became a minister, to wonder what’s happening with me.
