essay 364 : a rash mode
here we are in the years, or uh, the letters
ashtrays down by the lake
is that inmate, or intimate? the molecule used
slip at the side-stream
on waking, it was midnight with a cool breeze
dawn’s beginning to shape up
in the whap!
a fever times space as it rushes by
down in the
cold mine, working with an unpicked ax
across the documents there are
square blocks of words on fire
constitutes reality .. et set, … a rah!