dug into the soil of gold and silt, broke the nails she could never have. work and coffee. no work,
no work. no coffee.
his map, inaccurate, his compass, misguided. pyrite and buffalo chips. buffalo shit. the bald
white men drive carts, the buffalo roam, and the women, the women, the women take their
hats off at the shore. ducks are on every menu. candles and napkins included, free of charge.
his map, scrunched, wet, buried somewhere in san diego. misguiding again. misguiding again.
she's just a friend, she's somebody's boyfriend. she's somebody's best friend, she's somebody's.
somebody's, somebody's. she's somebody's somebody's. her corset never fit, he never saw it on her.
honor your guise, guys move in on movies, like zombies to a flame: they'll never feel the blue,
the darkest hurt, blue like a lighter, blue like the crossed father's daughter at four in the morning.
honor your guise, wise or holy, he than thou, she said, she said, said she, she said, holier than thou
she said, shed, she did, she did shed, so many shedding. chameleons and rings, babies and things
that honor their hearts, like limousines and how the liars depart. same as the next, honor the guise, no, the heart. liar by earlobe listening, earlobe piercing, unwise, he said trusting, never lies lies. honorable guise.
half of one: dinner and a fiery lamp, no magic yet.
one: skee ball and a mouse, dinner and a movie, carnations carnations.
two: buried treasure, a death cab and sea foam riding her outfit, a guise.
three: colors, colors, colors in air. colors, colors, colors in air. touching -Japanese showing.
four: buffalo roaming. hiking rain, flowing shore of wealthy duckling. cold, cold outing.
five: missing mostly. crafting his history, her story, laughing, a movie. touching, touching.
-and when there are dreams collapsing like a lung
breathing on a single side of your body, struggling
to swim to the top. ghostly avenues. ghostly lovers
loving in curtain lighting, the house was small. her
breasts were round, his chest inhaled, his chest in-
hailed like clumps of ice. cold were his shoulders.
he found a way to warm them, but she had been
buried in the weather of it all. the weather of it all.
breathing on a single side of your body, struggling
to swim to the top. ghostly avenues. ghostly lovers
loving in curtain lighting, the house was small. her
breasts were round, his chest inhaled, his chest in-
hailed like clumps of ice. cold were his shoulders.
he found a way to warm them, but she had been
buried in the weather of it all. the weather of it all.
