it was late trauma early pain while he couldn’t pinpoint it. a child in eyes a man in skies so torn by disbelief; where chattering occurs or a nervous habit liking chewing nails. some nights such screaming the walls bleed the tragedy is rude. some melonberry or cake while it seems fixed—the abuse the language nor right in spirit—those fumes those rooms while repulsed such hives in his belly. a radical component a grown miracle while so guilty inside. eyes grinning minds winking as threshed for the curse—a harvest of flies a crop of disgusts or mornings looking at comas. late evening blues so removed as floating in a haze; our pictures such reddening dots such revealing habits. by ceiling to confined chaos. by angst or anger. by such paining love. or a stench aside a lie while negotiating perception. so fueled to form some belief. by welted warning by puppet deer those cries as if pain was cancelled. so oxymoronic. as same senses, different drills—to consider in silence, the habit as assaulting to imagine their problem, for people seemed to have attitudes.
I hit
a fence to hit a track so enlove with freedom. no one knows the lady in the hut
while so engrossed. a grape soda an apple pie a bag of chips. to need beauty to
climb ghosts while ignoring becomes a habit. to play like wobbling to laugh
when alone while black kids are targets. a new garment an old omen while
running is metaphorical. the thawing sun the blazing moon such dear
constellations. our ethic opinions our challenge to anything, even if it makes
sense. such specialties as mind-controlled, so systematic in our debates. so
academic such a chase those mazes his child-soul. pupils dilated or huge buildings
such billiards for a smile. so mastered so into flaming the ghosts in a
soldier. but damaged or dreary or droning out existence. the knife to bark the
soil to arc as so bare into his first arrival; so small so decent such a needy
little fellow. if to resurrect fresh out of pine while gunning through
backwoods. those weasels our wrath so wrangled into more trauma. oh mother’s
cries, or father’s disappearance, so destined to say some human diary!
