Wednesday, 9 March 2011
the hint of a river
god is small talk and i am lost in the sky with the memory of your toys
u are shaving your head and never really died; my name is the memory
of your face; god was only acting, man; all my heads want u like an
invoice
u chat with the surface of god, no caterpillar argument
running from a loss of words, as always u go
head bopping, swap swap
has the surface got your tongue?
your mom's many teeth in the backyard
can i pick your disordered mind with
the hint of a river?
i never really died; are u shaving your hand?
i can't feel your futon; i can't feel your backyard
u can just change that tone of voice, missy
the invoices met with your head
amidst prayers for chocolate
intervention
no caterpillar double bed turned my head
bad haircut, back roll, the pimps of god
the moral of her television deep under the freezer
a soon-to-be-born child called for small talk
my father is upside down; my mouth is as
at the service center with a legal document
my heads are in the sky and u know where his hands are
i febreze all my worries away; i go home to prime numbers
a child is eyeball talk; i am the loss of a river
a small legal mind with the hint of half an argument
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