in a place they call killarney lived a little elfhe lived in the forest all by his little selfhe was very friendly and loved the forest sooneday it was white down had come the snowso the the  elf decided. he would make some ski'sfrom a piece of wood that was hanging  from the treeshe tied them to his feet and slid along the snow.took it nice and easy took it nice and slowhe was having fun and sang an irish songfeeling very happy as he skied alongthen came out them out the sun and the snow it went awaythe elf he put his ski;s away for another day

like dharma. like thrown lead.ransomed  .like a hostess with a gun to her head stone. carving metal casting dry mouth hair ropeand as you.            shrank
backwards into the sea.to taste the salt that i become. head around bone thumb entire histories of shoetiers into the innocent briars.like the hairs- scrubmust mosslust.under your fingers.each breath shoveled on
like.every single unregulated prayerdamaging us all. though i stabbed
away greedily-   verily, we could come back home, waiting for the
crash
that never comes.thrushly.tearing awaythe sick branches . tumbling down the
stairs unrequited
and

convulsing.
*if i'm the most interesting thing, than we have a problem.