Sunday, June 25, 2017


preposterous scalene imagination-
ist gun-jumping, which has fervor
to strike and ravish, blossomings
and the grown-women power of non-
sense--but is still novel--oh how

its name rolls on the tongue like
a typewriter, shorter and shorter
stories and coltrane quintets, an
entry within heaven should signi-
fy some sort of heaven, but i was

still fully involved in the star-
gazing paradigm shift and accomp-
lished parades, how and why twins
everyone with the big book and an
obvious cryptomnesiac fluttering;

team sleep, powered by economical
circumstances that place us some-
where in the previous aeon: time?
if it became fixed? it would pro-
bably bleed into the culture with

an heretofore unmeditated mazatec
fearlessness which expels both of
the interested parties in a perm-
anent display of agricultural and
intellectually preservationistic-

al affection that renders us cat-
atonic for a while and then, com-
ing up gasping for air, it'd have
been as a dream, and i know this,
just like i have seen your faces.

No comments:

Post a Comment