local/permalink.

you'd murmured wake, i hear this
noise like wind rushing rushing,
planned-obsolescent yet holy god
crush me with petalling and per-
haps cycling girl-- a continuous

emotion that surfs her fragility
and supports, revisited communi-
ty project that sports such yel-
low soul, and cradles itself yes
in the bosom of-- impact, myself

the ground is liquid with flames
and reflecting its mundanity all
in the icey sons of the unspoken
heavens, and the daughters there
wave, with truthful omniscience;

and i only want to kiss embraced
royal reality betimes, gold pro-
fessorship tenured synthesizing,
adventurous again, and provoking
such as appositive literature in

small and smaller books.. every-
day i am made overcome and know-
ing the respectful, bowed season
of existence, so tautly slack my
love paramour: lately, the words

don't damn the man, fifty & liv-
ing pardon that resetted scene &
tumbles philosophically likening
my suffered mirth to lights over
the surreal fields, and marxist.