Tuesday, October 20, 2015

novocaine. neopinephrine-novocaine- chaser
of fixed-teeth. i do not feel a
face. mine,
those of the world- hardly
a face left worth imagining these days.
the blase life: not atrophy, but
going in directions departing to everything
but the focus.

equations produce the withins, and
the outsides- pair of complementaries. capulets,
montagues. dolls, in secret, frustrations
vocalized through. but if i
cut my skin, you will know
that i will see every fucking seed in their

non-parasitic love-making raving
doing nothing
but nothing
which sets an example
we all could consider following.
and i will eat the seeds, dripping
pomegranate-gut. ignore

what you hear and shrug upon. it's romantic.
romantic without it? not romantic enough.

shrewd motherfucking volcano.