life asks a question and to this
i am called and i go,
with a side of poison for my heart.

in an absolute existence, a philosophy,
there is a compost of gray and mud,
there is intoxication and an absoluteness
which spreads out in a line.

your imbrued materials have imbrued my mind,
and the evil we do executes the birds in their cages.
--

i have lived in strange neighborhoods.
the closest civilization is something
related to another city where i have
lived without being. the illumination,
the fluorescent light, a concrete wall of
blinking fear, the facility where clouds
are given up and float. the darkness is
a certain product which
in the world outside becomes
a discontinuance. this accidental life is
loud, is a cooling system which groans.

having lived in the land of gray and rain,
and being therefore an upside-down sort,
i go from the room where this minimum is
abandoned.

it is not clear.

it is necessary to scream and to
scatter my foolish brain.

the horizontality of gentlemanliness
will be obtained. he calls my name and
the fact that it impresses me is tried,
like the mechanisms of rubbish.

not pawing, not having grasped me,
something continues here.

as for modification, for being better,
being a method of believing,
i act; i have started the year
with this as a kind of flirtation.

it is good and it escapes last.
--

i sit down and i shout.
i do not understand the why;
whether it is praised profit or
the dancer of hangings which
makes me ruinous.

perhaps i am dark and presumed.

he fears a death sentence.
he is the person who is broken;
he possesses the same reactions.

he fears. he can look at the fear of surfaces,
a fear inside his face that spreads out.

it is foolish, it works in nervousness.
it is languid. it is like this and
it hits a necessity.

silence will split us like
a nervous cancer.
--

the way of heaven; punishment.

the head you do not raise is a scurvy;
it moves suddenly, it is not excluded.

you take me as the omen.

i am fearful and i am ruinous.
i awaken the snow.
it will move sweetly. it is slow,
bashful, incomprehensible.
it is coercive and we are
just a little broken.

we are moved; for the present
we maintain things. everything.

we are hurt and skittish;
we float and rise. we want being;
you laugh in me and it is but being.

we will be injured and wrong, and
in the thin remains, water.