can’t wait to bring out the smartwool
don’t know the world as myself
not really steering that boat in the thousand
islands, some-teen & icy.
Out in the northern landscape
from behind the foggy bus.
phonecall phone call
my back is about to give Starfish in bed
skydiving or so being like dead
without this sleepy & sharp
journey, where I won’t turn
that huge cockroach (very dead)
she walked underneath a dripping bridge zig
zagging its white & grey
The tragedy of ugly which did not deliver
the dragoner & his few loves, who hax, all these euro brutes
I preempt two a.m. by hiding the guitar.
I hurled her by her tail, agonizing, yet not as big.
