the botched courtship—along the
width of the highway—the habits of the human. I deviate, many variances, many
more issues. given credence, acceptability, to something hurting, much
pressure, a split personality and all. chasing misery. protective and emphatic
over misery. it meant so little, until it was repeated. such trespass, the
splendor of the mercy, the curse of the
flying temperament. watching
closely. many unbolting. the times are upon us. so much a breathless universe,
form made formless, attracted to inmost art. the river is never the same, can’t
cup the rain water twice, the sediments stir, or sit in stillness. the beauty is
in the guileless, the seductress is furious, most require something to believe
in. a soul sees it, says something, out of
consideration: it’s up to the
listener to create something different. so boxy, such barbwire, washing palms
in hope and trust and variances on love. it can’t matter, with no recourse,
doing what is afforded—taking pride, enjoying the cycle, making life postmodern;
roadmaps to invisibility, the puppet doing his part, never too vocal on what
appears to be obvious. so netlike
carrying skies, the condition of
the disclosure. like a blizzard—until—one understands—there isn’t any other
recourse. brain wars. increased concentration. at the precise moment. never to
assert it, maybe speak it, only in passing. pigeonholes and pits and pressures.
existence is watching, most keep looking for people, the worlds are deciding.
