Sunday, April 05, 2015


Father of the future, there will have to be war ended; the jazz and rubber pants
drawn by a steel cable into a homing-cone--a society woman
underworld man plumes whipped up by the fierce wind minimalist works
hard-bitten pioneers who opened up flesh of their dead friends and comrades
blank expression My blood, my blood vodka and jiving to juke flight
rubbing against the neighbors' antenna always asking people that I use for decorating
to adhere to hideous green light snaking down from above
a kitten on her wooden cat door was a drug addict
the vinegar helps its mouth foamed with steaming saliva paint the ice-axe

1 comment:

bellweatherlugosi said...

seriously "empty mirror" friend..dig