45*21

to say the lamp post breathed ghost
she mounted the coconut hair above
a frayed post, what clump
the ghost said 'get the fuck out-a my house'
he said it like "I'm confederate, you ass wipe!"
the slow motion motocross screen dripped from the tv
we can't white wash this existence
grandmothers in prom dresses recite Emerson
Oh! I love you poem. She said it then winced.
Getting naked, the day was porcelain and gray
A moon vehicle stands for truth
To lance a snake is counterfeit
I was so drunk it loosened a tooth
my head gear went through the wash
now, I can only learn to feed myself
the eraser was way up there in the nose
it erased time
her voice squeaked and made me think of onion
I'd gladly give this all up for a slice of silence
but in these hours of desperation
all and everything seem to contradict