so there are other things.

unrelated things,
and perhaps all other refuges.
rules and euthanized people,
the basis of love.

i am economized, i am the refuge
of the refugee, of time, family,
a vulgar existence;
i am an abnormality which
rubs together.

my false hearing
as poor as my sacrifice.

i am new; i become fatigued,
walking boldly with my
original intentions.
i meet monsters,
a fear of endings,
of systems and boxes of
specifications.
--

i hide from my stupidity.
it is clearly audible, but never good.
a simple avalanche, a simple someone;
someone i think i want.

he possesses a coercion problem.
it is a scurvy, a fat quality.
he is a victim of self-protection
like the edge of the world,
coloring words which always
describe a state like a human murder.

my hang-ups rise, rejoicing.
--


pestilence,
the surfaces of victims
poured my blood into the plague.

how fragile my lungs .

i was caught and i am watched.

i am a hostage in my town.
i must have forgotten
the method of being human.

there will be people, things which are thought.
there is no freedom and i am as a bird.
--

a new small spire, a
supersized world.
a maniac in the eye of
everyone who was seen.
three story insanity,
things without uniformity looking at
those separated troops of victims;
various diversified insanities.

pulled heartlessly,
striking mutually.

lobotomizing a grasp of
the future dystopic people
removed in spite.
a feeling better than
being hurt.
--

it happens like summer:
midnight reaches to the night.

the corners of the sky find
a recognition curve.

crossing the vague world, history:
such a distant past time.
it could awaken us with the telephone,
with a metallic sawing voice.

a great war,
an accidental fall;
it is the sky,
it is a dusting off
of reliance.