45*21

all the smiles are turned backward in their erasure
similes asides the fax cooked harbingers in the sand
billy had a bland bible story of which he bleached
I gave my offering to the has beens of the Lorca set
well if you ever give me trouble I'll hold ears at angle
and poor into them my lessons thought
tycooons butter toast in appropriate time signiture
better bless the cake
cheese sandwiches were served to the bar mitzva
a pure religion billy clubbed by death
every period in the text we had accidental turns
a harmony registered in its equal abrasion
as if it were to test a microbial debate
we paint these false majors to be minor
among the coated and the sleeveless terrain
you can't billy club and an idea if it's a gas
today the moon rises with a sun
a fathoming per glad
a giant hole in the brain
oil leaks
goose pillow red dawn