(2013)
god is unwelcome in suburbia, the cells are too comfortable there, & love rests best under stars.
here’s a story. it may even be true. where i come from nothing ever sucks, so i
may be too onerous a task for those not starving. lucky
I will meet you in the open air, & pet your pony’s nose. You will be
a few hundred million dying days later he emerges into crazy
reflecting on the moment before, would be useful only were it not already perfect.
Fieldwizards and firetops. Wobblybirds on snowflowers. Chilled milk and chowder for the little prince. Mothercake for mumbled thanks.
you are guilty of failing to love and understand me, like a dog is guilty of failing to speak or use
love me past the edges, stances and masks, deeper than i know things.
lie still. be quiet. please understand what happens so, next time
liking to say things, all kinds of things, mostly about the way things seem
first fruits hardly a handful, the garden
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
nobody goes mad on purpose, also never is it not shared,
of course it is not about you. you have to know this, like baby birds know worms come with mother’s return,