Five hundred caliber.
Minister.
A preacher.
A reacher to end all things in a blink.
End all blood red vomit in a sink.
You and I we think.
Or maybe we stink.
Like dead bones dug up from ages ago.
Living bones are love from a time we cannot remember.
We remember most of everything.
Everything being a blanket over nose.
And mouth. How the is a construct to help us go.
Self conscious for a year and smeared.
Smeared lives. How many times do I have to die before
I learn.
Get tired of waking up. Don't we get tired of waking
anew. Everything bleeds, sir! Can you walk?
It doesn't rhyme. Die or due to die or sky walk
backwards, strewn body parts and a head said
headset scripts are reserved for the deadset
skipset skip around everything exists at once
all the time every time dinner time kill every one
kill everything when you're born in a hell bear everything
every sound every taste every touch every beam of light
kill everything hurts.
Snort aloud. Did that come out of my mouth?
Or did it come of out of my nose?
Everything hurts.
We were simple then.
Broken
bird
wings
gaudy
and 'purdy. Some flash if the sun shone right.
Some photos to take if there was good moonlight.
Black grease and cages. Fences and contained rages.
Never leave home without a hawk is still rule.
Thirty three and still no actual tool.
Except the one I've honed.
Honed to protect a traveling home.
Snort laughter.
A bastard. Fantasize about deer slugs ending everything
that embodied what fear was
thelastthoughtyouhadworthhavingIhadanightmareaboutmydadand
I swear every day I want to kill him
with an antiaircraft weapon
shoot through the walls because if I step in
I'll walk right into his arms and he'll son me
the way he did for too many eras
and I will never make that mistake again.
Where his life ends my world begins.
Is the falsum I tell myself
to feel my time on this earth is worth its wealth.
I get tired of dreaming, screaming awake
like my 500,000 horsepower engines have a date with fate.
They don't. I want to break the silence.
Take the forms to where they live.
Take the forms to where they build.
Talk is cheap, the market is.
Claps claps clapsclapsclapsclapsclapsclapsclaps.
The fires of rage do not have fences.
Chain links. Fingers poke through, without rails, we speak.
Pain does not have boundaries.
Your worst self may be the best in the foundries.
I don't know where you're from.
I don't know who sent you.
What I know is I have been numb.
Numb for too long. A hip bone with no femur to tongue.
Getting our body together
300,000 days at the river.
Maybe not that long.
Time stops living life as a
NAN
