a pelt, a rover, the hammers pealing my face off the lee, exposure for the slake, the sea insistson its wetness.
I learned form, an old blues song told me that God and the devil went to the same tailor.doctor prescribes
oh lord, this day exhibits all the characteristics of an apex predator. we sank hooks into language,pulled it from-toward
the brink of obsolence, I never said it like that. we pit bulls, crumpled distinction, trotting throughmeadows fatly
and muscularly and bow-leggedly, rugged and handsome bouquet of weeds held in our wide jaws.scythes shaped in hearths
and chicken nuggets, what do you do for a living? math is a love problem. the mice have becomelarger and more
violent than the cats, I fear. you film yourself leaning against (into?) a hurricane, tell the people, Ican’t trust myself,
through feathered horns the axolotl breathes, having refused land and sacrifice: can you imagine?fetch the gash from
the cane, a cornfed wave of second thoughts. my eyes went white, couldn’t process the visionsof the birth of
a star in a jeggings store. are your intentions pure? does this feel comfy? did you know that thoselarge, glistening
fangs can molt? the mineral profile of the soil, perish, perish the thought, even after a few secondsI am startled
and see your beauty anew, as if the first.