(2014)
I will meet you in the open air, & pet your pony’s nose. You will be
first fruits hardly a handful, the garden
if ever someone is my dearest ear who hears my truth as theirs
unspeakable dearth of nutrient the cause of the complaint, lack of the sweet titmilk of human connection,
Fieldwizards and firetops. Wobblybirds on snowflowers. Chilled milk and chowder for the little prince. Mothercake for mumbled thanks.
yeah, the contract the social one, so long ago supposedly agreed to, we were born instead into. what
people, mostly all barely beyond apes, cannot be trusted. they are incapable of caring
you’ve been invited, stupid asshol… to remember things differently, wh… it means to be human, even. dumb shit, you’ll always let someone el… handle it, whatever always happens
just listen the trees drink silly.. I work i work that day the not
here in the middle of the bottom of the lie how obvious
was all stupid. you weren’t that entertaining. i find it all only sad now, that
shall we turn down the covers, crawl inside? find there a place that’s been waiting for us, a vortex of sorts
something you need makes you its bitch, yes even as it isn’t coming, no when love stands you up & all the more sweet
this being we are, delights in all things, yes but is held breathless
the conquering child turns 50, gets the gag out its mouth, says here i am. let’s play now