excuse
all sister
and young sisters
incapable myself
why holding back
tough much
remembering the
blood in my hand
a fans going
berserker
in a minute now
a poem of
little gravity
my faces
oi-ing
four cake slices
of a radiator
grill pattern
exhale
my pal goes
to war w/ the
world for
the larger
and
longer
sometimes it scares
me to sleep
piano flowers
sleep tho still,
when I can I do
I can
Say --
health and
soul
is all you're for
flimsy
ready for the
next epoch
in my Garfield
pajamas
green Chinese
comforter
normal a quasar
when I was a
kid on A St,
that
was the
name of
the microwave,
Space-bound
electronics
all finely
coated w/ years
of cooking oil & dust
all
expansions and
renovations
my father,
in his young guise,
erected,
smiled thru,
(summoned
almost)
these things
that grow you
out of their memory,
which lives!
but like vines,
creep over
lush time
you you
are beautiful
too!
