leaning into, not against it. no, decidedly for, yes, always that, no matter
better fucking eat it all up. time is getting drunk & may puke, be rude, before finally
my spirit sings to you, clears and quickens. losing you is impossible
i keep smiling forgetting to remember to stop myself.
i love you for the doubt you show me still possible in this body where you show me
a few hundred million dying days later he emerges into crazy
first fruits hardly a handful, the garden
of course it is not about you. you have to know this, like baby birds know worms come with mother’s return,
now, I’m no Bukowski but my friends who don’t like poet… except his stuff, tell me they like mine, and I can drink like a drinking machine
we were all talking, things taking shape as they do, when someone said, be desireless, like that is at all a thing people
they really do know how to shove something up your ass like
does a king come ready– made, or doesn’t he emerge from a prince once a frog, and aren’t you
we are nearly always a world which almost
so, i’m in this spiritual war. maybe you aren’t, but i am. many great losses
this being we are, delights in all things, yes but is held breathless
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