Tuesday, April 17, 2012

feel too

bullet fork ,why g rime
batt ered when I ,bl
eat the clrowded tube the
t ube urbe hume ante
ubre insoñada .hickso f
atso ,runny p late ,c
lod mor tífero tífus
sh ouldered like a lake
O log wave dipping in the
sol que cae drowning
in my va va “voice”


shoot slab net dumber fo
cus shapes the queen set
lub me’s not apt st
roker ah the fog filed the
cajón de versus de
arañalgas lleno tomb
my shirt ,los bailadores
con las dicks sp lit )un
der the corn( aquestos
gusanos yr cup sunk
por el gran fedor I
saw the crown of tree I
ni remumembered where
the flaucet was


the wheezing peel the
nattered lake the eck
toplasmid foot yr air
heaves on ,number
neighbors the ,dog
lunch ,shadow ,st
rip fog the doorway
out ,fine o upper suit
lathered in the toilet
ere yr dog slot am
ples in the ,moth
lake ,strident fire
yr shake tomb up
,up answers shorn
,your fog g skull drilled
an shmoked

jail an sky

mute mote même )slu
mber foto( capes an la
thers fog dressed the w
heel yr ssnake guessed
in flake it off ,or of
f .trime to go the neck
in flates the dogged d
ime heel’s sticky in
my pocket peel er the
blue gland nor eye in
hamster crown ,ja
ck dancey ,sh ould
er leg ant gum
spat s be hind the
droolings ngs towel


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