I will point you to it. Only it can’t be so welcoming at times wading through that which isn’t for that. We sent for our brethren to beat back to come to and yes I have been planting my fist into the muck for some time now. Divisions like this are just so hampered with why exhaust the acrylics when the oil is underfoot. The larvae inch caped in corner thoughts caked in the sweat glands of my thumbnails.
Falling on the backs of letters scrunching wince eyelids machinated machines more or less come through these eyeballs and probably other pressed tears and garnished prayers. To point you to the letters like seltzer slenderizing a rock.
April 2009
[due to my embarrassing absence regarding this blog and otherwise, a poem pulled from the semester.]
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I like that last line very very much.
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