Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
You were Styrofoam cups bound together with reed string, the bicycled inclines and scraped forehead.
everyone likes you
because your parents are dead.
Squandered. To veil the veiled. Who or what takes charge of what was never developed?
She confessed that she was your real mother, but she was so young that she surrendered you for her older sister to raise. In her account, at least your father was the same.
“Where does this blooming come from?”
From time.
“No. From your need to relive what you don’t even remember”.
Who is a sea monster or a tempestuous ocean so that his storm may be a leviathan constrained by the tongue?
Will you get married?
Yes
When?
Soon
To who?
Me
Who are you?
Papa
Horses
bulls and horses
the slaying lance.
A subtle glimmer in the jasmine. A word,
its texture.
it’s not a game. It’s the last time he’ll let us in late.
“And how, from there, from that edge, that muffled yell, that tumbled childhood, can a kingdom spread?”
Arid on his crown, he picks up the brush with his guitar fingers. Blue now, the mane keeps growing, or could it be the skin drying out?
Close your eyes and swallow the host of your lineage in a single mouthful.
everyone likes you
because your parents are dead.
“Where does this blooming come from?”
From time.
“No. From your need to relive what you don’t even remember”.
Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
She confessed that she was your real mother, but she was so young that she surrendered you for her older sister to raise. In her account, at least your father was the same.
You were Styrofoam cups bound together with reed string, the bicycled inclines and scraped forehead.
Who is a sea monster or a tempestuous ocean so that his storm may be a leviathan constrained by the tongue?
A subtle glimmer in the jasmine. A word,
its texture.
it’s not a game. It’s the last time he’ll let us in late.
Squandered. To veil the veiled. Who or what takes charge of what was never developed?
Will you get married?
Yes
When?
Soon
To who?
Me
Who are you?
Papa
Horses
bulls and horses
the slaying lance.
“And how, from there, from that edge, that muffled yell, that tumbled childhood, can a kingdom spread?”
Arid on his crown, he picks up the brush with his guitar fingers. Blue now, the mane keeps growing, or could it be the skin drying out?
It will only be real and intense when it detaches from the stalk and its essence dries.
Close your eyes and swallow the host of your lineage in a single mouthful.
You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.
You picked out mother’s dress. It was black.
You find laps that sheltered you and the same bosoms nursed you, although he eats from the dish of lentils and what must be eaten unsalted.
“he’s not home”
“do you know where he went?”
“to herd none of his sheep”
Sipping
swallowing
licking
cup-fraction
where her lips
could
have left behind
a drop.
One moment of silence.
everyone likes you
because your parents are dead.
“Where does this blooming come from?”
From time.
“No. From your need to relive what you don’t even remember”.
Who is a sea monster or a tempestuous ocean so that his storm may be a leviathan constrained by the tongue?
Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
She confessed that she was your real mother, but she was so young that she surrendered you for her older sister to raise. In her account, at least your father was the same.
A subtle glimmer in the jasmine. A word,
its texture.
it’s not a game. It’s the last time he’ll let us in late.
Will you get married?
Yes
When?
Soon
To who?
Me
Who are you?
Papa
It will only be real and intense when it detaches from the stalk and its essence dries.
You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.
You find laps that sheltered you and the same bosoms nursed you, although he eats from the dish of lentils and what must be eaten unsalted.
You were Styrofoam cups bound together with reed string, the bicycled inclines and scraped forehead.
“And how, from there, from that edge, that muffled yell, that tumbled childhood, can a kingdom spread?”
Arid on his crown, he picks up the brush with his guitar fingers. Blue now, the mane keeps growing, or could it be the skin drying out?
Close your eyes and swallow the host of your lineage in a single mouthful.
One moment of silence.
Squandered. To veil the veiled. Who or what takes charge of what was never developed?
You picked out mother’s dress. It was black.
“he’s not home”
“do you know where he went?”
“to herd none of his sheep”
Sipping
swallowing
licking
cup-fraction
where her lips
could
have left behind
a drop.
“Where does this blooming come from?”
From time.
“No. From your need to relive what you don’t even remember”.
everyone likes you
because your parents are dead.
Who is a sea monster or a tempestuous ocean so that his storm may be a leviathan constrained by the tongue?
Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
She confessed that she was your real mother, but she was so young that she surrendered you for her older sister to raise. In her account, at least your father was the same.
Will you get married?
Yes
When?
Soon
To who?
Me
Who are you?
Papa
A subtle glimmer in the jasmine. A word,
its texture.
“And how, from there, from that edge, that muffled yell, that tumbled childhood, can a kingdom spread?”
Arid on his crown, he picks up the brush with his guitar fingers. Blue now, the mane keeps growing, or could it be the skin drying out?
You were Styrofoam cups bound together with reed string, the bicycled inclines and scraped forehead.
“Where does this blooming come from?”
From time.
“No. From your need to relive what you don’t even remember”.
everyone likes you
because your parents are dead.
Who is a sea monster or a tempestuous ocean so that his storm may be a leviathan constrained by the tongue?
Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
She confessed that she was your real mother, but she was so young that she surrendered you for her older sister to raise. In her account, at least your father was the same.
A subtle glimmer in the jasmine. A word,
its texture.
it’s not a game. It’s the last time he’ll let us in late.
You were Styrofoam cups bound together with reed string, the bicycled inclines and scraped forehead.
It will only be real and intense when it detaches from the stalk and its essence dries.
Squandered. To veil the veiled. Who or what takes charge of what was never developed?
Will you get married?
Yes
When?
Soon
To who?
Me
Who are you?
Papa
You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.
everyone likes you
because your parents are dead.
Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
You were Styrofoam cups bound together with reed string, the bicycled inclines and scraped forehead.
She confessed that she was your real mother, but she was so young that she surrendered you for her older sister to raise. In her account, at least your father was the same.
Will you get married?
Yes
When?
Soon
To who?
Me
Who are you?
Papa
“Where does this blooming come from?”
From time.
“No. From your need to relive what you don’t even remember”.
Who is a sea monster or a tempestuous ocean so that his storm may be a leviathan constrained by the tongue?
A subtle glimmer in the jasmine. A word,
its texture.
“And how, from there, from that edge, that muffled yell, that tumbled childhood, can a kingdom spread?”
it’s not a game. It’s the last time he’ll let us in late.
It will only be real and intense when it detaches from the stalk and its essence dries.
You pay them in memory, unstable currency of each and every day.
Arid on his crown, he picks up the brush with his guitar fingers. Blue now, the mane keeps growing, or could it be the skin drying out?
visualize the voice of thought.
think the image of the voice.
provoke destiny. play.
from chance, from the sigh.
understand the force that links
the image to the name.
the name is an image.
the image is a verb.
play. nothing is chance.
destiny is a game.
everything is destiny.
—