(2013)
love me past the edges, stances and masks, deeper than i know things.
I love how you talk Down to everyone In your poems Which, unlike fiction Are not covered
now, I’m no Bukowski but my friends who don’t like poet… except his stuff, tell me they like mine, and I can drink like a drinking machine
life and even one good thing– anything, a course in wonders becomes? no school, thanks not for me. no lesson one so likes declaring to find itself legs. no
finally, without knowing it was coming, he got to die. it was great. like a birthday party clown, he was equally the center
we go walking around walking all over this town nothing ever getting us down cause we’re just a couple of clown…
the center holds itself still that rockets believably may be seen exploding in all directions from somewhere vaguely
reflecting on the moment before, would be useful only were it not already perfect.
god is unwelcome in suburbia, the cells are too comfortable there, & love rests best under stars.
they really do know how to shove something up your ass like
dopplergangers in case you both explode, who knows it could happen, true love too qui… like a limerick, obvious stupid si… like things aren’t. also, angular
i keep smiling forgetting to remember to stop myself.
just listen the trees drink silly.. I work i work that day the not
webwomb’s not the maker of me. came into it as falling is done. down, only always
nobody goes mad on purpose, also never is it not shared,
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