his tiredness crawled to pills (puncture wounds) party masks and a defrocked holy man mocking the television like a rat
understanding thin lips while the air is thick with a pervasive sense of envy and i know how yr going to hurt me i know what yr trying to do to me
with yr "oh shit" voice from the subway sandwich shop and yr slightly removed search for answers in my eyes everyone knows it the cops the robbers the beggars
so lose that sidewalk glance eve was just open water as you inhabit the land of the original semen generator
it becomes easy to paint you as a pig simple to reconstruct or relive hidden corrals hitherto rejected as "in between the lines" and there's yr voice again with a lack of amnesia present where all verbs are singular like unlocking the door to the exact spot where tetanus has meaning
making the planet seem camera ready every last syndicated antichrist waiting to show the clip on the projector top down from it's element shooting bullets scratched by a can's rust of the junior consumer club just because it seemed like a good idea
to displace any sort of ice block oil so olived by relief that nothing could wonder if the misplants had started to backfire.