I woke up this morning with so much thirst for life.
I am a dandelion stem by the river.
I thank my sister for swallowing my drone.
Our drone and wonder how many.
Outsiders patrol the borders.
I harvest all my crops.
Yet there is nothing I want to own.
Apart from maybe a seaport.
Under which I’ll deposit my eggs.
I said iguanas lay their eggs.
I was nowhere near the scales of their third eye.
How many spines do you really need.
I have such a channel of gifts.
Down by the coffee plantation.
A girl the color of coffee beans.
He saw the gourd.
And he saw the gourd carved into a shield.
Together we perambulated thru the cattails.
Noted the wizened hag was a murderer from the beginning.
The left eye almost out.
Divesting the white heroins.
The white heroins divesting the lawn—of my funeral.
Drafting the mess of whitish scents of coffee flowers.
A homeland with rivers.
She turns ghostly and reminds us—Sandino nest.
A second girl says her place.
She picks up two stemmed glasses with one exposed arm.
The talk overlaps itself as a widow—Mmhmm, mmhmm.
Can you pass the midnight bread.
If there’s anything left of the mills.
After the flood.
Pass along the memetic flow.
After we spill into each other.
The spy who goes out by day complied.
Down goes the nut of the table.
I enjoyed your lectures on homilies.
And you took so long to write you thought some would be saved individually.
Thieves are not a rhetoric.
Before the conifers provoke shorewards.
One has also thought about.
The smell of cheese in the cheese-woman’s boat.
I was the black gap of recluses shored up in hotels.
Which date back to the filibusters when I would sell coffee on the pier.
In the gap we could then name the gap.
The footing of her wolf-mask came closer.
When she approached to give me a marshy warning about the gourd.
Did he hear her secret.
Wulf wulf wulf wulf.
Never had a job I liked.
I said goodbye in English.
I thought it would be a sleeping sickness in the end.
But when it was the pack emerging from the reeds.
Our placement of weakness and strength.
Steeled the head who was meant to take me.
She swept down my arm.
With the watery humanity of a melt.
Assume they are exactly where they appear.
Along with the rest of your pregnant sayings.
The fool in the end is one you have to actually name.
One girl says we are always kissing each other.
Anne the Wolf is nauseated and glides into the field
It was supposedly her turn to be called.