Friday, June 21, 2013

KISS IT TO MAKE IT BETTER









Serious, astonished
and hurt
above all the imagines
of a face
I felt the need to say, however
improbable

“I shrug at the thought of it”

My head hurts me
and better than any
other good
the doors salivates at
the thought
of air and shoes and deputies

“I am weary to death of this thoughtlessness”

To handle belief
one has to
have a broken system of
the mind, or
rotten milk somewhere
in the back of the refrigerator

"I walked through the town today. I've already seen too much."