[from: the Loss Lieder]
clan had weight grill till unfortune, as wait slumps clean
inside the blast fable thank you very almost much,
a temp sleepers down ungrown
gyps livid tap stream rooted in yr ethnic hair, a Tij—
grapping as to rapping, immense the tinniness
& indeed tinyness cradled by the moll (a tov cock
tailed into the henhouse ramp scene tackle startin’—)
ruled by its own authorities as an intersection of
mess & culture go grind out one more at bat vamping inside
the missing places where i continue to crawl in
socio-legal poetry noun systematics ..........
a yuck yuck flips ambler estupidisimo rat out blinkerdom
wine flit to execute the donor’s wishes, or perhaps
cackle as boggle at, where mass transits into miss—
you don’t want just any unlucky range of discolors, avalanche
gripes, entered biweekly storming the summer palisades
aflow ... just maybe
the rat-face chewers glit outa rink slipping
falling at the obstruction-call intro-
evening
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