throat, rigged with wire and hay. a jewel from rote, shines strongs as binds. our jewel from rote, a jewel. tied with wire hay, pressed in rock and clay. 'til their not
, they make me nervous. So very nervous. Comma where are you now? It's just to tease you. Black kites take flight at night, they aim to please you. Take aim and
for youth, elders make four. Five for belov'd ancestors. Six for wealthy, seven poor. Eight for sinners, nine for pure. Ten for great, eleven small, and
so so very impetuous. collecting diamonds from the fabric of the ocean. collecting diamonds and some worthless stones. and risking all our lives for nothing. and
: Your kin and friends taking their bodies in and trading them for ends. We took our bodies and we put them up to fend against their bodies and the cycle
crash new jet planes tonight. and the sin is back in medicine. beltway goes around. monuments are thinking. beltway burns down. monuments are sinking. and
you ever start? why won't you? time ticking spell it right. understand. it's 1974, '73, '72. cape tight fit on from here out. "kiss and ride." "twist and
road With the lorries rolling by Blue moon sinking from the weight of the load And the building scrapes the sky Cold wind ripping down the allay at dawn And
way the lawn frames your home. drink h2o, breathe o2. left lane must turn left at signal. right lane must turn right at signal. d o w n and that's the
out cold. "meow" is not the message. kill me in my favorite clothes. or dress me in your favorite clothes, kill me with your favorite comb and then just
there's something in my pocket and you want to set me free. keep me another way. you and me and i've seen it in front of me. lies. the truth. these tracks
we kiss goodnight with a firm handshake and it's lights out for catholic computers. this is fantastic for you. i've been up at nights to paint the house
of the night or for a getaway? What if all your belongings were fast asleep and far away, but available to tap for blood and money in the daytime? It's not
time to start burning some. you can make believe, enfant terrible. the secrets out: you wet the bed. to fertilize your list of names, bouquets, and
Slow down. It's in the skin of my knees. End up dead in some cypress grove. Tattoo the rind to my skin. Tattoo the sound in my lungs. Don't want to see
and ads. Oh, demands. Dance or hang it up. We're sympathetic to chance. Working through a coma for some cheque and a chance, sleeping in a panic with some pixels and
Hands up give in to modernism. The re-enactment's closing in. But we're past that now. Dip your head in the water. Hands up and over. Heads down in shame
quiet mouths speak in quiet codes of the contagious headaches that sent them home to empty tombs (or parents beds) with flashcards to memorize their wounds
