so garbage come pale is skin
pretenders ideology in repetition
forcefulness of lumpy ego
lurk sky scar scrape tied love
hence traditions allow you to live
gestures of surrism scrambled perception handkerchiefs
undo you do stand will voodoo rhythm
time is your cell using jazz encryptions
measures most what lives their hell
ways of paths borrow street names as face
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
to Kek's Automatic Ibis-Dog
while my fork tongue drummer hies her hair in reverse on white line wales i dot you my love you're healthy and during passages you remind me of the belt buckle across my past squeezing papers to trees...
