El Egg

II. Lifeless Equal Sign





a mild night of inner stabs chunk / starlings scream as dark deplanes /what approaches it comes chilling every fibre in the whole fiasco / fracture anonymous beach had come home with honey, incoming, homing in on honey eyes / some childish cohort some function snares / you owe to luck directly kindling a little naive chime huddled in fear of wind or out like a candle / beatific terror in a public egg / a little tremolo at the foot of a catapult / sounds sham no one has a gun to your head, but it is the end of the world / it happens free of tree equality / a kind of fealty / devalued demonstratively uncertainty gazebos / and the whole smoke piled high / up upon a ruse down over thinking / it's warm, or you're hot, or it's over / down a moon or down lower lengthened what is it that's in a line that makes it move longer / in slow strokes out toward the barest / a cheap crepe psychic tamer flubbed off a couple of glowering murmur throngs a lucid tongue plover / dove across a sky that was into it as a self-secluded user up all night out of bedlam / to a sure cigar in unsmoked victory circles whose amends have neighbored up against a nailed wall / and wail there like Billy Buddhist





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