from a decade’s night’s critters I never got used to loving
I know what tastes together tastes like together ness
namely plumb and duck or flashmob and your one palm
but I am never the one anyone ever thinks of when
they think of doing well or good at it but I woke up in
the future it’s hard to say what this means maybe
a plane boils down to remote control a flower boils
down to drug the worst kind of inquiry is that
which presupposes a getting at answers applicable to
mourning the sky assuming a guise of translucence and town
squares everywhere staticked with light in the sense like
glow or frost rolls in the banners rolls out the light
the day I turned thirty it will be the day I will remember
to flip my calendar day page to or the day that gives
up early where are you where your tracking me
tracking myself and I always am ready for something
