skirting all the
animated moments
move swift
fast in ****** muscle
recollections he was
wounded in his chair
there seized upon the
revolution from his
own side was to watch
her three trips for ****
that Sunday he was
spending and suspended
by a strange hand as
balloon him falling
forward always faithful
you should call him
I think we're making progress
marijuana chocolates
no violence ******* pull-ups
in the basement sitting cross
legged wondering and
heartsick seized upon
some love of colors
giving in most pathetic
but real love there and present
finally quit the buffet job &
am I crazy now?
tales of DMT and pink-flash
of white hot nothing
abolished in after-image
finger traces hold the
third **** then
thru the kaleidoscope
door where not to
be abandoned to
utopias rather fishing
for an image of
divine mother pulled
out of the background
subtle nature language
wove in one's own tongue
never have you known it
but it's now & faster
than imagined
a world which breaks apart
into fractal building blocks
of source code neverending
as she's on the couch with
snapchat filters absurdities
of alcohol and everything
startling the sleep sick
senses