As/Is







6.15.2006


Albums with Sharp, Pointed Teeth

I was ablated yesterday by Grove Press neurologists.
The dimensions continue to bubble and pour Clorox onto
positrons of sunlight. Contrary to the bless you sneezing
its grace period on sneaker trails, I overshadowed my own
fuselage's reconstruction and saw the fortified book of life
jump to the front of the fire. Your strange balloon is
sneaking into bed with my wife every night. It fills her
with helium and from then on, she is never like I remembered.