Feed on

the time

is ranging supine frontierish in the uncut

gums everyone has a travelling companion

i could keep asking him questions although

no i wish i was stoned right now count

the steps up & enter a gentleman’s bar

are we looking to the past for memories

of pineapple & lime sorbet or dogs doing

things stray & irresolute breathing out tension

he’s the long black in the group order daft

& we’ll contrast this with the stretching hills

feel the future then act paternal no good

yarning about new folk exponents never  learn

a single thing there’s memes for other memes

we love that only i don’t (having seen things before)

black&whites  of artists looking sexy hang on the walls,

or used to, post-hanging in songs i’m still

romantic about a six-shooter nursing it

amidst rain bringing forth the image of a maiden

& a hankie in my mind, kicking coals

into splinter-short specks of infinity

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