Wednesday, March 7, 2012

re:volver

middle times 
                                       gold child perfume that 
hurts some people just 
                                    eat parts of their       bodies 
                                      if you touch it they won't take it back
rocks i mean rots in buzz 
                                merchant telling me i cannot silver as i
 please                     they worried about trains 
going too fast and creating a vacuum
   12 steam mph
                        a body used to get sick at 
                                                                 such speeds
now we kite astride bullets and sticky bombs
                                                                 begging 
be faster                                         core every last
rippling bloodbeat

3 comments:

mandibles said...

the last half or so is tremendously FUCKIN YEA!! i may think of some little critiquies uet tonight.

fatally born said...

nice.

sars said...

ty ty, and yeah we need to make up some apt term to describe poems that have to get warmed up and then start cookin