hell, i wanted to float on words like farflung thunder.
ammo for taking out fluxing logograms.
riddled w presynaptic bits & piercings.
today i’m an ill-wisher on an isotherm,
cold heat from an explosion & an exploration
reading right across the tear.
anyone poisoned by words is a drunk but
no one who’s drunk is a swimmer.
eventually a metacenter sinks in raggish waves