Schlepped moody in the graveyard-- beer slush-- beyond cold.
Define “late”
+ Your mom's new boyfriend. (Realizing what you moved for doesn't move you.) Falling through gaiety describing the head intersecting the wall. Frumpy carpet burns forced excitement. Ersatz communication, old tools, old thoughts, older wants, old places personified by what limits could be/veiled/exceeded with old tools, old thoughts, older wants (cursing a spit when your mouth catches coffee grounds-- that face). Beguile unfocused resentment. Go on.
Spill Ink. Say, how far back could you feed back?
Oh, give a damn; a hoot.
Thrash compact willful ignorance into the tumult of what’d become expectation. Droll, loll, lull, excrete, repeat. Breathe it. Holler.
Gnarled gait huck’d aimless drifts t’snow banked currency. (F)lame. X’d eyes (Yours + mine) ex’s eyes (yours + mine) oh? We’ll get along fine…
and response
and response
and what happens with disillusion when distilled through all the wrong works, all the wrong styles converse and foster force? Is it similar to every other time you’ve pulled your hair? Picked a scab? Blacked out? Or glanced to see the ashtray has dumped and the carpet is on fire and you think “This feels good. This feels O.K.” or know how you think?
The library will close on MLK Day
Rock-hard abs
Burger
Picture the poster, mattress graffiti
Drink in the street
[Dysmal Abyss Myspace]
[Buy Disguise The Limit from Lighten Up Sounds]
No comments:
Post a Comment