emerging from a 1000 year symphony
another impotent place
second only to
sacrificial manifestos
in as much as
it depends on institutional plush chairs
which are 105 watt light bulbs
burning
continuously burning
leftovers from leftovers
cut in half
punctuated by language
burning in
cant see enough of those
plastic felt tip makers and portable stereo headphones
which moves some to
uncontrollable laughter
at the edge of a carnivorous problem
left with only a memory of food and water
and words like
fine
good enough
let me hit you before you hit me
which has a certain . . . . . real time transgression
a thought of a thought within assisted religion
which is nothing more then
a compulsion for elimination
a desire for order
prefabricated sunshine
served cold in the days of digging badgers
all in a place called
an endless summer
limited only by bank accounts,
wiggly redemption books,
and bouquet of poets
meandering in buckets of cheese
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