Sunday, June 12, 2016


put your coins on my eyes, holpen
in the future being brazen for my
furniture-- cells and railing, an
option to stick it to them awhile
over something like a magazine: a

running, ringing puncher with the
elevationist treble of the lowest
convolution and gang relation-- i
took my leave at the ninth hour &
could have taken it or left it to

be perfectly honest: cramped halo
mentality for the amorites, loved
with the authoritative glances of
glassed chucks and skywritten all
my illustrious, singsong sonnets;

go is the word, the game, and the
ending of a lot of vellum, march-
ing into october by the might she
dubs blazing into a night of mos-
aic gratitude, and ration-- know-

ing full well this won't be read:
not on the steps, not in the far-
away eyes, and not in the crowded
regency.. but made to pontificate
exquisite criminal regard to tech

and its teachings: i will not be-
come sure, i refuse to understand
your subtil craze until the visi-
on comes clean and colourful in a
mad twisting, obvious alteration.

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