been tripping
those days. couldn’t trust. feeling like a hybrid mistake.
I loved like
sickness, petty nickels, petty quarters, I was looking, it hurt, she was vacuumed;
I was different, to imagine my child, as aborted with permission. living fast,
freckled out, mother on a wild track.
I asked obsession,
she agreed, why in hell the deaths! an insistence for commitment, an army of
shame, bleeding, where life is made.
throwing
penalties, knowing whoredom, a man to confess many in bone, in grit, in
blankets.
along PCH, jumped
on the 10East, headed to the funeral. I was in the breakage, I felt like a
spirit, listening to an animus, fused in burgundy lenses
a suspect over
there, a listening genius over here, like pictureless, invisible to my eyes.
much a weakness,
like never so intense, reasons people get married
so sexy, such
gravity, falling into a climax; cursed, connected, like a life in Illuminati
different methods,
different cares, never had much of the wild loyalties.
