His bone elongates, past the sixth worm
possibly tree dirt the door to ball and socket marrow and orange soda fountain
The pulpit on the back side top of the graveyard
- up tha- Hill
Runnin'
A 45 degree slip n Slide
45 miles an hour She died, tryna soak the sun.
- Kate Lauryn....
the preacher is reaching for a point to stab his crunchy black collar
and persuade a girl - like daughter, teen to forty, a father to sweeten bells
under eyes and grey clouds at sun set
Trying to, push the People toward the Entrance, a program, perfectly planned to Be a Pamphlet...
the tingle of the convenient doors
ricing your way to a hardy heaven
superior to a flaxen internet subsidy
the night
Good
Nigh
and quench
quell
floss
Back to Lome
Pine
Wise
Close . . .
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