Anywhere i lay my head. startling starting staring string sting sing sin in i
Obsolete There on the swingset feeding a pigeon, one fucking pigeon... Remember How it was morning and bright and sleep was to physicality and kerosene one gender alone. Both my, my, my. An event so rare. You come into town and liberate the feet of the teens. We are stranded by snow. Falling-down-hopeless alcoholics, gag a little force it all down, munch our hay. The milk truck had left. I vouched for that. It is my birthday. Bring on the razor make love to it and take me out to dinner. Pickle it. Arcane brine. ... - Pigeons! For fuck’s sake... There should be starlings You chose poison.
To a Lighthouse Then again. Here, the former site of a nineteenth century shipping dock now a concrete slab overlooking the East River. I was younger then [the shoeprint gives it away], time was for lovin’ the hell out of you. Jesus preaching for the apostles Be his light dude, not his judge! I try to understand what he means While setting the table for Easter Promisse me you’ll never be sad on my behalf kid. Remains are silent. You call and bring forth what’s within you. And that’s when the missing starts. I write you and there’s no end unless. The kid looking amazingly cool at the back of the Plymouth Voyager. And I do not know where to drive.
RANDOM RULES
2 MARCOS BRIAS
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