( via / me )

"The heart feels for its own..."

1.
when talk could build things
things were built
salad days i among those
when talk could build things
talk & talk's pathos
on the same drunken boat
when talk could build things
things were built

2.
dance the near-total dark
drill where align the dice
savior is an addict
victim-wave & worse riddance

3.
moving spyhole spavined
amercement played tersely
what in this dawn whining
whacks me like a fax growl

shine into harsh shindigs
shudder for the bloodshed
speak-of-it-never knack forged
from nine blue frass castles

Jeux des reflets et de la vitesse.

cheetoh as a turd that's been floating in the bowl for day & days. why doesn't anyone flush it? is is that the toilet isn't working?
no, it would HURT THE FEELINGS of the people who enjoy the sight & the stink.

Humid air, desiccated grass underfoot.