Stay until the walls dissolve, problem solved. No Mustangs on this Mesa just a billion stars, a vendetta forgotten, secured.

Trees poke from the earth like the mummified hands of the martyrs. Buried alive, they strained with last breath

The moon lulls me as I wade through poppy fields, dragging limp hands behind me, catching each pod long enough before it snaps upright again

A tide of blood, miniature in compare— But an ocean no less, to the virus in there.

I imagined every venerable thing b… from being beaten until I had no b… and living in utter desolation, po… to having tangible things, good ta… Land and Gold.

Is closed, always was, like Heaven, far too expensive and unrealistic,

Mowing with the sickle I stop abruptly and remember crawling out the window to smoke on the roof

It’s good here decapitate me here this moment perfect astounding unknowing faith in God not necessary

It’s not so easy anymore, a few beers won’t topple me. Twelve hours will mend me. I am boxing a balloon, humping a leg—

The Rock made me to see each month as a day. The Rock implored that I be patie… with a patience so radical it slips into renunciation

Whether you’re preaching to the ch… or your words fall on deaf ears, just know you won’t swing a single vote.

The choir of the saints is heartle… They’ve parried happiness a lifeti… seeking only the old earth, the marsh of the meek— where earnest suffering