5/3/13

crime-scene tide

need a bath
the unfurling bloom ossifies
taut to the tune of a mournful theramin--
the sail-crack hits and you choke out thick blue chalk puffs.
these laws are abstracted out of muddy brushwork--
should probably crawl from the basin of leisure
(having been thoroughly lathed)
fly out to the end of the tether
til the leather snaps
my banded ass
(the shatter simply forms a finer filagree)
the shadow somehow leaks out from bisection line
starting thru the middle tooth gap--here it comes a-rumbling--


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