Acidic Jazz Tao soda
menthol crystal
salt of Sion
a wave of cynicism
...
Back in the olden days
We wasted the fruit
of our lunches
by hurling them at breakneck speeds
...
Fly trip-trap flap
tiny gossamer wing
made of caring tin
fleas dwarfed by flagellate
...
Bludgeoning box-car brows in beatitude,
Hammering hostile hearts to gravely ground,
A sound,
A sound I hear...
...
Mine is Butterfly
to I Am
Yet by my right to chrysalis
over and over-
...
Left behind... yet vaguely smiling.
I was sealed in this chamber
and my eyes fixated on the outer
darkness
...
I think I am older than I have ever felt
the strain upon my shoulders begins
heavier and heavier
with each passing word
...
Pushing heavy endurance
siphoning sleepy semblances of energy;
the days flow with epitaphs of stone
quarried deeper within lonelier humanities;
...
I carry blue halls
to the back of the...
room.
I have solaced shoes
...