over a red mountain sits the sunningly
die gorgeous
of the whole life's world that

where that

i

plunged myster-ly
up into

rising upon

(a thousand quick years)


to set my teeth into


each brilliant folly of my self
(                       –a foible which
all men
share)

some wet some centillion of how about i've been waiting all day to
stick it in you(r) mouth please let's kiss i love you so much i want to ****
you i want to tell you i love you don't be afraid because i want to love you
i want to *******; it was really hot and you sweat all over me (all over
me) when in the middle of the day i ****** you in a park parking lot i got a ticket on the way to get in your mouth you tasted so good and can we do it again next week?

be being being
–gold sometimes
,Spring never
in winter always:
Summer and summer
go entering

every sunset
their frail whoop
and last gasp
as shoulders unneat;

as boys and girls in garlands
whose hands they fail to keep

and make their mouths as gardens
)with death they hope to beat
(

i want you. the
coalesced flower of
Autumn in
wriggling manifolds
of
freshest
death,

that by who
paints with strokes of crimson
their brush becomes
the coy feather
of once a month
between
your
thighs:


                                                           blood

Sea,



                                                     the




                                   gulls

                                           (you)


                                                                                          krashing


                                            by




                  frequent tiny



                                                                                         eclipses



                                                          of



                               waves


                                                     Express


                                                     chips
                                                     of
                                                     white
                                                     onblue


                                                     becoming


                                                  



                                                    (instantly)
                                                     hung
                                                     by

"What's it about?"
"It's a metaphor."

"For what?"


"*******."



"*******?"




"Yeah."





"What's that a metaphor for?"






"Life."

.






























"What have you been doing these days?"



"Trying to become myself."






























.