Thursday, August 10, 2017

end meat

vision of the hammered phone
beside your sleep tidy
cereal skull giggles like a
broom if broom unlike your
swallowed sore were wind is
wind is shallow thunder
of yr creeping conscious scious
scious wall MY FINGER
SAID your verso's silence
. . . . . )plumber's dream
of dog bowels( it's the b
arking hand .wheel wheel
wheel wheel wheel wheel
wheel crashing loose on the
the far side of the road

drip and glory ,your finger burnt


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