A Mental Maelstrom, Inextinguishable
so goes the season of unfamiliar voices that broken movie seat, a moving porch in the prune fields of wild housing tracts echoing through shoulder blades, always empty factories producing silent nights all caught up in me, precisely imprecise i want to do everything, go to the beach creep across rooftops, trigger water guns shoot hoops, see everybody, everyone
Rolling up a magazine makes me feel romantic
we conjugate hyperbolically in a burlap idaho potato sack & now inside us we are sullen & glacial & extremely far away from one another ‘this is all wrong’ you say 'we fucked up' ‘don’t get upset’ i say ‘you're expecting'