tripped up, forgotten; begotten all plune with a dig into the earth or a swig from idle balloons which flow like water from lagoons and live like rabbits upon the moon. there is no man which can be seen; there is no cannon boomed or cleaned; there is no lover’s lap too mean; there are no oddities.
ah, but what with a canopy’s eyes all shielded from a watcher’s cries for brothers; sisters watch and sigh. i’ll make it on and on. upon a wilderness all torn; behind an elephant whose horns are merely tusks all cut, reborn as piano keys all coupled with scorn or pennants none but withered porn you take into a corner store to steal, to borrow blues and ore to fashion sickness tightly born.
my, what a distant shadow…
the sun sets.