the room is muggy,
murky termites,
a muddy chin.
I sleep in walls,
deep communication,
brainstorms
might locate mores.
it’s difficult to
assess behaviors,
dependent on ethos,
pathologies elude
swiftly.
the fire of
majority.
such rulings. an acceptance
of
pantheon water.
we’ll see new
harps, we’ll hear cellos,
we’ll play
violin
inside. we’ll be loud
to have lost,
uneasy
while
winning, most will
desire attention.
the room has
clouds, murk springs, a
muddy
conduit.
nightmares are
different, they
make for
attentiveness,
whereas, most dreams
are forgotten.
