repetition
is never
more
than one
poem.
there’s no future
in this pill.
my mother’s head
is full of heads.
I haven’t a volleyball
in a pond
to **** on.
in the words of my son
a sailor is lost at me.
I go on correcting oddities
in the brain and in the muscle
of a jack
in the box
as a cyclist
champions
hunting mourners
to keep their numbers down.
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 8:19 PM UTC
repetition
is never
more
than one
poem.
there’s no future
in this pill.
my mother’s head
is full of heads.
I haven’t a volleyball
in a pond
to **** on.
in the words of my son
a sailor is lost at me.
I go on correcting oddities
in the brain and in the muscle
of a jack
in the box
as a cyclist
champions
hunting mourners
to keep their numbers down.
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