Ghosts

I want more.
I want more.
I want more.
Glitch.
Shedding shedding skins and
I want more.
I want more.
I want more.
Bastard by rite
abd-abf?
abz and aba.
Meet half way
thunder meet light
sound barrier meet fright.
Scars.
I want more.
I want more.
I want more.
Thirty two means nothing.
Lock & key.
Swallow it
to know
"...hello, goodbye..."
I'm late.
I'm late.
I'm late.

Satchel

Okay.

Smoker 60

There is a house on a hill
the sun sets south by south
west, catching the asphalt
patches.

If you visit
the horizon
someone will die.

Kiss, wink, survive.

Sloppy seconds and time travel.

Forgive and forget.  Learn new ways toward passion.

If each second can eat a second off,
I am game.  I want to
light a cigarette at the viewing
just to smoke indoors.
A step back
from kicking the coffin off
its stand.

It will be hilarious.

Smoker 59

Between fingertips
embers light and suss.

Tears dry.  We can
kill them.

We can kill them.

Cursed.  Blessed.  War.

Given up on crying.  A teardropular object.

I've heard the stockpiles of drums (bass)
buried beneath the dunes around Dakota
are going south.

Might be the mountains.  My geography is shit.

You heard about that?

Do you have a magic marker?

Silly is like cologne.  Gear?  Three.  Cruising?  Mh-hm.
Cruising speed.  Hypersleep.  Upon arrival
ready
to go to war.  Beheadings
are not without their "cannot go back".  In the theme
of what turns
a rum runner
into a red drum
and a bass runner

is rules.

Three five seven snub hug
hip
hippie
fuck boy wink
rotate

Dream.

Wake.

He can
t
hu
rt
you]]\\\\

He cannot hurt you anymore.  He cannot hurt you.
You are okay.  Ten four?