wild onion fractal

In Bandon Edge

i am up and strutting
atmospheric lightning bolts
dialed in if you get my meaning
i didn’t fuck that stuffed rabbit
it was that way already…

    you storm the beaches and wipe the sea comb

  • with thrushes
    warm hair incense bent of parsimony
    a gracious coat of moo echoes
    the things that we said went understood
    moments of attention run true
    through the brains ironic pulpy matters
    as tomatoes and iron that meet as fractions of energy
    spleen kisses thorax rubs
    the sins of the fumbling fingers few and grunting
    by the guests and the staff
    not for feeling alive in the winter
    no grappling in the shade of a full moon
    only awareness this moment and will to wield it
    light to burn transformation
    cobalt crayon carved into the holy foreheads
    adorned with love of acolytes’ drone song