Small mind
Streamed bliss walking against
Skewed stars,
Hidden before glowing half moon
Street snap and crack of pavement
Adjusting itself everyone’s
Asleep in toe curling erotic euphemisms,
Bland/no rhythm
(SHAP-SOCK-LETS-GO)
Watching over the hills
These all knowing blessed
Little critters, now they sleep
Evoking Allen I kneel before
Shrubs/sucking their dirt and herb juice
Cut off like crosses clumped in Victorian
Bouquets,
Piss and drink water from
Chrome faucets, dispensed from heavens
Whirling fans, circulating cool
Enumerations from boxed.
Steady blinking of four-thirty
A.M. glows red against the wall
I am counting moments til’ light.
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