Friday, September 2, 2011


soaking, pickled in the saw mill shaving
cure that carried me,

long ways,

a kingdom once ruled by

believers, their thoughts
projecting immunity-the indifference
of slaves-

and I'm reading the paper


ignoring the difference.

smile, the doctrine of implant
sees you,

knows your face.

let us go, and we will love freely.

because what are you afraid of?

there is so much to see,
and taste, before

the time,

named serious, complies.

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