outside your window at

dusk. that baby always

cries for you. he knows

when you pretend to

fall asleep. he feels it

when you steady your

sleepyless breath. he

has no eyes, but still see’s

your toes and their nails curling under the sheets.

arbitrary like ness ly. Uhhm-

mer

i

can! Loves it!?1 And you all

maintain your social (hair) net

working in that media needy(ugh)..

lunch

Lady

LAND. (of the big brave sheep)

delicately hipstermotized, grazing on info

ladies bro’s brosephines – pretty

littlequiverjaw – Fat Free(ly)

some other new(ly) age(d) place to be phree

“Ain’t no reason amercians (whose ceiling eyes ghost me)

Cain’t vote for a nigger.”

Amen

Now fireflies in your blue eyes are like kaleidoscopes-
and even in the shadows of this giant oak tree
serendipitous light clings to you like static,
except closer and excessively copasetic.

I am holding my breath.
You are reaching in my pocket.
We have become opaque.