(2013)
of the things that make me become better only music is unlike surgery
webwomb’s not the maker of me. came into it as falling is done. down, only always
reflecting on the moment before, would be useful only were it not already perfect.
I love how you talk Down to everyone In your poems Which, unlike fiction Are not covered
unspeakable dearth of nutrient the cause of the complaint, lack of the sweet titmilk of human connection,
a breeze. already know what’s what. shut up. kiss her. shut up...
just remember we are so much more than words. shadows are beautiful too but let’s not
every story, especially those promising finally to grant the square hat with tassels, is a load of shit. the god which
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
leaning into, not against it. no, decidedly for, yes, always that, no matter
if i stub my fucking toe it’s their fault so say i, and who could argue? you almost
this being we are, delights in all things, yes but is held breathless
a few hundred million dying days later he emerges into crazy
finally, without knowing it was coming, he got to die. it was great. like a birthday party clown, he was equally the center
i love you for the doubt you show me still possible in this body where you show me
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