Apr 2016
asleep in the pickpocket’s bed, the baby is a mirage.
I’m so fat
I’m fat
in the dark. I compose
at my lowest
a crucifixion
story
from the basements
my father
wired.
I’m so fat
I’m fat
in the dark. I compose
at my lowest
a crucifixion
story
from the basements
my father
wired.
