( via / me )

The Love Poems of Johannes Secundus.

"Walked into the UPS to find an employee standing over a large open box, peering into its depths, muttering [']my god, we will ship anything.' Then he closed the box and taped it up in a fury like it contained horrors not imagined since Pandora. I must know what is in this box." --@tyler_a_harper

Experimental Fiction on Film.

         "A row of sherries

Like a thick row
Like a windy row
Like a monotonous row
His nature is still his
   nature
Frail is he who
   recognizes the rowing of the hair,
      the snow of the rib, the fright
         of his quarrels
In rowing he rows a
   row, waiting across his appreciation, frail
      from deference
This dun colored police has no velvet
   for anyone
He can hear the door
   of the spark
He does not see
   my dark, my snow, my air
These things flirt, soft, run, like
   frightened sherries
There are these indefinite days,
   beyond which a sailor glances itself
At midsummer he swims me
Even though dark is plashless, he
   has dark in
      his clover
Often running, surrendering, drawing bitterly
   at a frightened
      door"

--Robot X, 3181

"I did not do it/ for God reasons..."