aside a truffle next to a cherry patch inside a memory. a need for pleasures or raw against pleasures so astute so ascetic. maybe a solvent or maybe bleach while most persons are misquoted. over angel pasta a serious demeaner while we part with a kiss; over cabernet at some space while intonation is unfriendly. so much for peace, when in charge, as long as nature obeys. different coping styles so pathogenic where most are pathological. barely supported, up against an iron wall, while something said as nothing, is heavily envied. most desperate such fever for validation while crawling or scraping such aching if but to pass. sonic sound, such sound, while it was nice during resistance. the start was poetry the cousin is prose we baptized inkpads. a tree next to a burial we wonder if granny left the coffin. oh by stealth to merely give an attitude while hating a bit see-through—the vandalism inside such brainiac graffiti inside at some discussion about life inside. it seems clear, most will fail us, but life inside in mostly tangible. so frabjous such glabrous fever while so philosophical—a cut in sociology so smart to boot while so short tempered—a fret in a feeling a soul in a helicopter such swimming through intellectuality.
upon a tabletop sits a terrycloth aside a candle. marbles associated in sequences or stars aside death-plants—so far gone so alive a man with more pain than most; to know your fret to feel with empathy to restrain nutty outbursts. such an engineer, while this is true, if I love I build!
you know your name, a spirit associates that name, a feeling appointed in a heated second.
seated in spasms his life has changed or pumping iron as remote in self, for rain kept dripping, his face is pure evil. so close it hurts so familiar we laugh while coping is a habit. so bad in a state so encouraged to survive while it wasn’t meant to struggle. so we guess!
concentrate on beauty become consumed by beauty—this sounds dangerous! edify self, become edification, where most are pimps, pushers, and unevolved. it sounds difficult!
getting
lost caught a bus dropped off on Wilshire. walking westward or peeking into
salons while everyone was hungry—for love or life or a friend. it seemed crazy
such movement as in a given direction. so deliberate, I need feelings, why has
it taken so long? met one so decent so uncontrolled—such life such paint plus
sheer distraction. curly glow hips like hearts such a tiny creature. our
madness our lies a man running—so much to tell a story—so much to open roofs,
with hellish gnarms pouring inward: mother’s gone, father’s a ?, or identity
depends on reception.
