first fruits hardly a handful, the garden

bring me things to break myself upon till

like bell bottoms or disco but we need it to think i’m dead

life and even one good thing– anything, a course in wonders becomes? no school, thanks not for me. no lesson one so likes declaring to find itself legs. no

so, come on then, brilliant one, see, i’ve been waiting for you with eyes

unspeakable dearth of nutrient the cause of the complaint, lack of the sweet titmilk of human connection,

we go walking around walking all over this town nothing ever getting us down cause we’re just a couple of clown…

if ever someone is my dearest ear who hears my truth as theirs

man, it’s hard to come down from impossible hopes seemingly

if i stub my fucking toe it’s their fault so say i, and who could argue? you almost

was all stupid. you weren’t that entertaining. i find it all only sad now, that

Fieldwizards and firetops. Wobblybirds on snowflowers. Chilled milk and chowder for the little prince. Mothercake for mumbled thanks.