We watched from the stands cold in November
icicle cones and memories of evil.
MORTAL EYES
IMMORTALIZE
IMMORTAL EYES
Mortal flies drawn inwardly
WEIRD
body.
“Hi,” said the Vedic Wisp.
“Batten the sturgeon
straight shiftcalamityvolumemotherfucker.”
“She and her sense of wombat style,” said the bald man gruffly.
“I would wander in your dawn corridors.”
The nude sizing trumpet movements,
notes glass but in thousands.
That hitherto wand hovers,
poleaxe of the FICUS WIZARD.
Crisp animals, as the conveyance allegory,
bright foreign
sun.
Pulling the starship with satanic energy.
Development of weariness rubbed into the divergent species
skin,
as exodus genesis, these banal ideas of pure and zonal;
smoke of fibrous eyes’ scent around plasma planets.
Alive in some sense, I was the man in the fountain.
Who shed their shallow brain for innocent profit?
“Tell the mellow moppit to shut the fuck up. Or he dies. Today.”
“Tommy’s vagina was a joke that I used
to make to make
Bryan laugh, but
no more. It is no longer funny.”
“It is no longer considered polite to touch on genitals,” the limousine
driver replied,
his large and silver mustache quivering, as if made of moonlight.