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Tuesday, January 17, 2012


mad letters of recognition,
retrospect caught up in all general aspects of micro-scizzims
I respected the eclectic nature of the usual figures
picture planes bow where the rhinopolisis listens
down in these epicenters,
a gateway to the mild west
& into their tent cities.
a taste of this wild guess..
the countless analogies and drugs ingested..ha-ha come on man...
who hasn't done it...
Hunters dead...& no one did it quite like him.

but then again...everyone hasn't lived yet.


SPIRITUALIZE..see what comes from it..
you decide.
buckets of blood...barrels of babies...boxes of boxers...dogs or shorts..
deep snorts atop chests of drawers
a warlord sparring with his ghosts..
for being a whore is ,
at its core,
being at some weird peace with the world.
more and more i've become sore to the hordes of spores that attribute to pockets of strangers taming straight lips
quit wishing,kids...they all want short trips

I'm about that long one.

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