more
sluggish, so exhausted, remnants of connection; brown eyed queen, do exercise
justice, in such, ask for mercy, too much enjoyment in deaths.
I
stuffed a grand, dice hectic, seeing demons in cries.
I
ate brunch, laughing, choking in parts—so many losing disguises.
it
takes genius, to hold persona, where anger is mythical reality.
I
wave on, locked in a daze, sad, lower than gravel—waxing heart, shielding
brains, many still get core fire.
I
became significant. it tripped me out. a must to offend. he must see. much long-term
ungrace.
I
could admire more, sliding into first base, drums articulating disaster, losing
pieces of the baptism.
birds
are overhead, it must be a sign, crows keep following.
numbers
on pages, napkins in laps, class is what we claim—a bad soul, a good spirit,
sitting in mystic design.
so
sluggish, so exhausted, counting on process, vision, endurance; more to her
aches, seeing it that way, like what—the bass is blasting—
just
to wake up, just to chance, walking on a ceiling—up-side-down, listening to a
voice, killing my arcs.
closing
skies, another flame, at piers, looking at the dragon woman.
