a meant june. the past has couple years for splattering poems: day one. my mind just slipped it mind. i think don’t i seem to have kept could have that anyway up, but with, it’s disconcerting while… a vaguely signal perhaps, the way of things beguiles getting me away from. lawns overgrown become the more & more. the image the work of defeats even making involved a single step that intimate direction.

here’s a ballpoint. take that guitar pick. do you like zippers? thank you. beat that little man up there with a stick.