(the dream begins as an animated film)
No matter the cattle as I start to fly the birds in me
awaken what I am not sure of. A creek full of broken
numbers is that of which I am uncertain. This dance is
taken from a narrative insurgence and four pills in the
moonlight. A punch in the stomach is what got me here.
Moreover the rain is what I remember, Zero now having
laughed his way through Chinatown’s wet broken roses.
We are delivered of the bruised birds, each one a new
flower. Growth spurts. When I am lost I can find only the
story and then I knead it into disruption. I wake up with
a tall Italian [robot]. He holds me with music. These
are the words of his song. Each desperate language gets
lost in another blue background. We wade forward,
certain that Zero will hatch us another yarn of birth.
No matter the cattle as I start to fly the birds in me
awaken what I am not sure of. A creek full of broken
numbers is that of which I am uncertain. This dance is
taken from a narrative insurgence and four pills in the
moonlight. A punch in the stomach is what got me here.
Moreover the rain is what I remember, Zero now having
laughed his way through Chinatown’s wet broken roses.
We are delivered of the bruised birds, each one a new
flower. Growth spurts. When I am lost I can find only the
story and then I knead it into disruption. I wake up with
a tall Italian [robot]. He holds me with music. These
are the words of his song. Each desperate language gets
lost in another blue background. We wade forward,
certain that Zero will hatch us another yarn of birth.
