Zero headphones raping zero goosenecks
to tie a golden-black tongue in cheeks
Blast off moon paddy pissed into dawn
but you still have pants, lucky
and don't mind no jerk sun
Toward light sounds become deep
and filled, jumpropes doughy, grabbed
Planted pots, the ones you take
dribble dirt morsels all the way home
No gravity, sloppy joes into the mouth,
pour down champagne mustard--
closed eyes for the future set unwind
Friday, January 23, 2009
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