Lapping mind’s morning sounds like sustenance,
see it running back, sea organization: a mobile disaster.
Divorce introduced the afternoon again, easily
it was the worst collective goal one could think of,
drive to a road and count. We don’t know when
it’s going to rain, a kitchen and the idea of Minerva,
candidacy, call the painting “all my friends eating cereal.”
Under new fabric, households, fidelity, fire in a jar and
birds or people who want them, the window to the sea
I didn’t care what she’d done, a lady putting her feet
in the water. So the waves approach Manhattan.
There is such a thing as simple affection, insufficient
waves, bare particles, “marriage” as the culmination of plans
fastened to thoughts upstairs on the snow porch
making up in time for lunch (yes that would make a better story).
A machine made a piece of mountain currency, foreign forces
running the apartment, the thousand square foot apartment of
tomorrow like today, I was far from home and likely figs.
He listened to the comely spoken affair, the minimal answer
to ankles in fields and pronouncements on wild stairs.
In the extraordinary raid you were close to me, had a
bullet proof vest and you knew how to use it, how to hole up
in the false floor and wait for the rebellion of an unnamed and
terrifying country. Walking down a hill, avoiding death spots,
our revolution will be bored. You will have an animal.
I’ll say I have a cough under the canopy, calling green light
to the sea, rain taking an entire youth down. Morning
charades as news of putty dented consciousness hot pink
surrounds the morning in which we are any, the television, the
books, the chorus in the sea. You are capable of everything American
leaving a child in the car on a very hot day. Whether the earth or the machines
I was the earth was my warble narrative. He raised a hand in the flowers.
Said it was afternoon that he liked in her, striped light calling out Zeus
after them. I am against light if otherwise I would be considered for it.