"Where we learn we are not autonomous"
Poetry hates me
Not enough energy to get there
Faith akin to
Possible tomorrows
Space shipped for terraforms
For unconscious
Brunch on available bodies
Zombie poets
Erasing traces
Tastes so good
Intentional
Goods made in the
Untrue domestication
Fan made
Twin logic
That is an allusion to
Paranoia and narcissism
Turning shit into gold
Or vice versa
Symphony of all you can eat
Will you take
Tentacles of Bigfoot
Wet concepts
Beneath plunge line
To hold and cherish
Yes I do, I am that asshole
Chopped liver
At cultural white space
At stage IV
gelatinous z ero
Out of lame life
No bond
No lance for hire
No temporary employ
Spare me or spear me
Universal equivalent
Seeks Dynamo Boy
We who are that other
At sea in the vice
Grip of the thing itself
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Saturday, February 7, 2015
One nation under a groove
And then there were two
The next number
Mass destruction
Finger food
Past the point of annoyance
I want a sentence
to aerate soil
Call it a Parlement of fowls
A verse to have and hold
A prelubed song
Bird to call my own
I want bite-sized
Dissonance
Blowback by design
If he wakes
All bets are off
The next number
Mass destruction
Finger food
Past the point of annoyance
I want a sentence
to aerate soil
Call it a Parlement of fowls
A verse to have and hold
A prelubed song
Bird to call my own
I want bite-sized
Dissonance
Blowback by design
If he wakes
All bets are off
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