FULL CHOIR DEVELOPING MEDUSA BREAD, APPLES, SODA

The way I died then unto the hills, the seashore, a doctor
tree bright with white animal that lives on ice in thy borders
the female cell, a plastic in his skull
these new machines been just black dots constantly overhead
wakes of long white soon littered with wreck

the bell weakens loping love and her own limbs
as though the angels were dimmest analog slapping the paws
to float out of this unto the hills, the branches of memory net
began to hear music shaped, with a mouth for sounds that beg
slit trenches full of gods

shave of a former lover wars to cease unto the ends
valley cave, well cylinder