2204
7.11
11.i.26
we are
otherworldly
suddenly Sunday when it felt
like that all of the month
extra-calendrical
we wave our antennae
fireworks, cosy up and coo
we are inkling with far
stars
and weightless
slow on the uptake
loose with your fact
we are under some
misapprehension
nor can this music be written
but is
some say destined
whimsical farts hang in the
air
yes you can see through us
but different every time
here to ghost
diaphanous
we will soon be gone
it’s back to sleep we go
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