1813
5.351
17.xii.24
get my kicks
having
reached that shod rough
clear day
see forever
so
bush hoofing
I, procession
of
kept company
who are all these?
much thanks!
scratch here then
make my palette day
indent
I’m all over skin to touch
with long slow strokes
some chuckle up
and furred
to the point of trim
not yet but
take me for a wave
is chocolate it?
hence vain!
read back!
I scribe
at strings
and could be hammered
bust out of the book
it’s all as I damn well please
conjure unstoppered
later cram back
for the infant slaughter
and ever more
or tear out the heart
if you will
as one does
less and less of a danger
but just to myself
that’s how my horizon arrives
you can see where the flies have been
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