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Apr 2019 · 702
(y&u&m&m&y)
Lucas Apr 2019
bleak rot
traces static cube rim glasses
and chases the quota
of the sum
of the total
of the whole
into a long and tall and capital I.

I am red of ear, slink of wrist,
and marrow;
fuming like a full tread insect.

slanderous geology
as tongue speckling glory
is ****** and lowly
on the cowgirl trail
showing it's back
as it's best
and trading weekdays
for poor metals.

fibrous, numinous
radiology. sulking and wading.
tributary becomes runnel
becomes mighty becomes cash
becomes pulpit, or pulp.
Mar 2019 · 195
Dripper&slide
Lucas Mar 2019
hollow Rd. ---parallel to sunbeams
and tall flowers.

dreams about lazy statements
seen like tracers filling the gap of eye and ear. lazybones, glue like marrow stapling body to bedcover; I eat.
(lighter?)

blue brick yellow. firebox baby. 'Darlin' yur a honeycomb.'

Windowbird. I eat.

Higher. (lighter?)
Mar 2019 · 347
Obsl-U
Lucas Mar 2019
i don't want anything.
i don't want spring
or growth or nastiness
or u.
ambiguous u, coconut oil on type 1
printer paper,
zen space, cubist u.
i don't want root vegetables
or fine granolas or early dew-grass.
i don't want u.
Jan 2019 · 437
Horseshoes
Lucas Jan 2019
Open attachment
to underachievement,
fulcrum on top,
it is no use,
it is no good.

diaphanous you,
leading up the path;
I am not the honeybee.
Jan 2019 · 873
No one is here
Lucas Jan 2019
Polaroid sunshine;
I'm a pyramid scheme
people want to watch
drop dead
in a bowl of soup.
Dec 2018 · 609
Move or die
Lucas Dec 2018
neon pepsi rocker
blue
behind a lucky hat
large like a thief of thick love

crying like nitrate
I stand
in mortuary
as a misanthrope
my porcelain skin
unclear
to sorted eye

I'm an alleyway-baby
and even more jackal than I look
hallowed be the wagon
upon which I hitch my limbs
sinewy and sunked-eyed
I am spider glass
working on wine for my mother
and sunshine for myself

and one more time
under ingot willow
hang with me
until confusion
correlates to clarity

run
Jun 2017 · 464
----------
Lucas Jun 2017
beam splitting
world eater
I am weak
and feel compelled
to feed you
my own liver

whittle into me
a labyrinth
not a picture

— The End —