Trash dash on a two hour meter A ham and cheese croissant and pilfer Your heart which has grown fibrous — Dry and cleansed of particulate love — Full of granular lunacy and roiling Pathic are your howls as I leverage My full weight on you Heat hurt hate
“The houses look at one another, a language of windows.”
i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....