Ten years' receipts for broken glass
Garage fool, broken glass and stale wooden masks
Citrus stained wood
(thunder in beer)
to bounce off clouds ping ponging oxen feet
A nervous plate
Reverse reverb
A bone in the sidewalk
A gas station makes a poor creek bed
Lungs under static tornadoes
The sun's imprint on my eye
my fingers are on fire
and the useful textfile might catch me a salmon
or crow
uniflex beaks available
Meanwhile the phone requests sound effects
from humble beginnings
Muttering hamburgers
Varnished mice in a uniform disengagement
As Gwen left the dry cleaner
she became fragrant and so lovely
She might never know
I am an open library
No comments:
Post a Comment