prescription
scribbled on my hand..
bland sunday
head buried in someone’s story,
asked for
the housekeys back,
drove to hear music move
like my body’s
steam,
night whistles through
the cracks we
dream.
prescription
scribbled on my hand..
bland sunday
head buried in someone’s story,
asked for
the housekeys back,
drove to hear music move
like my body’s
steam,
night whistles through
the cracks we
dream.
chalk-eyed
ether-
sticky sands
expanding under..
forever layers
deeper..
heart heavy
panting
fever-
slightly shucked
shellfish in
shivers-
surface regrets..
reconsidered
upon ocean of
melting
bed–
wax
liquid
oblivion again.
“alright ginger,
send
in
that
master
of madmen”
we’re all ears and
must hear..
“dear beast, who’s
in season?“
dammit he’s
loose
now–
shan’t catch
him
by thinking too
like him,
i smile small
to thank
him..
no
doubt,
we need hear
no more–
“alright ginger,
show him
out.“
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