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Andre F 5d
Repentant thoughts
stall
in a dim lit
corridor of tongue.
hard plank
passage in yellow
early morning wash,

rancor sinks
there
untouched by me
or you.

A bright kite
***** limp
in tall trees
that was us.
Andre F 5d
Winter undoes
the brittle buttons of
her faded dress
in a pearlescent sun

steam hazes
the first lines
intoxicated duress.

dreamer dreams of
hobo’ing peaches.
awkward conversation:  

“trade a threadbare
satchel, down at heel boots
for running water
and contacts.”

Panopticon mornings
Panopticon nights.
Andre F 5d
I slip
like sand
from the bottom
of the two ones
and disappear,
expanding in
hollow spaces
below the glass table.

I drift.
the eight
was alive
swirling infinitely
strands charcoal
in the orange
expanse lit
behind my eyes

In reeds they find
a baby without heritage.
women make you
earn affection while
the boys sort through
all sorts to get
the one.

Echoes in underground parking
comforts
the late
thaw blind
angled sun.

I question.
Numbers rush me
one breath at a time,
a minute more of hiding.
Andre F 6d
The sky is
a buzz
that takes me
into trees
and veld
that held me, burning,
a moss pit,
smothering love
sweet secret carpet rides
of prayer.

Mind forges
kilns
beyond good and evil
gorging
iron from
the clunky
wanderer
spinning
glum
around a gluttonous sun.
Andre F 7d
the light bursts
from a sack
the bottom
broken through,

this bent bhikkhu
screams silently
into the
non-attached
that becomes
brighter at every corner
of my fractal mandala
divergent source code
new galaxy on and
on and on.

In a distant universe
stork-like birds are startled
by the shore
that endlessly laps at
our efforts of serenity.

ephemerally here infinitely now
the empty everything
takes any form
we give.
where do we go when we dream?
Andre F 7d
I fold my shadow,
pack it purposely
for transition through  
districts that nightly invariably
abort me on
salty frigid sand mornings
that never smelled night
and night that
never ends.
What happens when we become unconscious.
Andre F Aug 2
Dig
waiting for the fever
that burns an amber
wire sizzling into
my periled glass heart.

I scroll humdrum
I hop onto sane
and dig through
unformed parking lots.

memory
drained

malfunction
multiverses
passed.
Waiting impatiently for inspiration. Wishing for for a better tomorrow by digging through my unconscious.
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