Wednesday, September 21, 2016


beaucoup unmastered budding truth
beholden to a duo in its maserati
with the rain issuing forth, mist
and such as that, all the ecstat-
ic misericordia of alteration, by

and by: whispers of blown a wish-
es and my surreality is most oft-
en found in the refuge of social,
fastened, speedy freshmens talk--
legendary pictures of fisherwomen

and ice transliterated into music
for the edification of the illit-
erati, the amused-to-death stares
and sneakers plucked pizzicato to
slide into the acoustic spectrum;

life, to worry, liquid bluing our
whites for minimal-electronic ap-
erture which gives me an ideal to
shoot for, if not lunaristically:
being myself at all costs but re-

maining relaxed and respectful of
the rights of the roamers-- amer-
ica is mine and it owes me a liv-
ing, and such euphoriant nonsense
as ever impels olympian & fractal

inversion, making a table and ask
how it got in the suite anyway, a
romantic getaway and the car will
not start after the bank has been
robbed these are all good things.

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