I turned last night into a poem which
when I got back from the dance about the loss
of a long-time ago it was one of the best poems—a cosmic
backdrop—snowy hot spring baths. I love him four times.
four times I wiped my eyes over the apples and the potatoes. I’m
your special guy. pain is all around. here for example is a picture of the
rice pudding from the cous-cous truck. I shot the wet sidew
alk here — and another time here, then I shot the firetruck. I swing him over and over, I
thank him over, over, fuck his eyes are all over. his eyes are over. fuck his eyes.
see how they shine. fuck them. I am over everyday screaming a bit. this pocket
changes me. change makes me feel united. so I write more. next is a
triple layer installation. the food is good but where’s the dick for love.
this green newspaper balls love into an upright casket. I escalated
then I fell almost everywhere. how romantic this is together. how
romantic together. notation: going on for a while. I just waive him.
I’m feeling quite indifferent. ha. I just wave at him. a cosmic wave.
