I never sublimate
What I hand out is thru impulse and fashionability
When arrested pretend I remember nothing
On the subject of this don’t mind me
I’m just furniture
Walk foot by foot rusty sickle in hand
I remember what I did so I sit and wait for those thoughts
A few more then surround it
Some dusted
Others a kind of plastic infinite the editors
Won’t be very happy with …
I’ve tree’d myself to my concerns
See they’re so pretty and not mine as they float away
In all kinds of petting zoo shapes
Some pompous waltz across the bedchamber
But here I brought you some flowers,
Wild fuckface
You are in need of flowers.
A shocking humming pink