Saturday, May 30, 2009

now shut up and do it

get a load of this
while it's still free motherhead a rapture
with which a teenager claws his first

is it after all you that sends me these messages
while I sleep? no that is some turtle fantasy
of irises of wet erections bursting

in bed so bloody so ugly in breakage
listen now to these trees in early summer light
midnight has not taken
meaning from them
you are a woken cannibal at prayer

starting like hares standing my senses
spring
why all of this is so young
why I gladly roll into you
dream figure at the end
of silhouette alleys singing
swells and ways and swells within
.
.

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