Monday, July 11, 2011


You might have forgotten something
like it is good that things roll on the floor.
The day is round and dark, it has no edges.
All pretty fucked up things.
You can not have this kind of thing, you will see stuff
and go back again when they see you here alone.
Juice on the tables, you juice blue birds.
Employees fall into your hands.
You stare at the sun and the dark
and swear by it now. There are no rules
you won't follow. No one will follow,
but things are so fucked now, it does not matter
what you do. I can see through you and that's all it is now.
Soak the dried skin on my finger in the light.
Let the low hum of another room get full of you.
If you could just get it you would run with it for a touchdown.
What I have to add to my style is your day.
As I write, the flowers wither on targets. Vast weather
is not difficult. You can feel close to someone's life,
such as pillows are soft, but you can get something. Sun.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

illusion is easy

8:56 AM  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home