I cannot jump rope off these ropes

This way




Blood suffering

Dolls introduce to more beauties


Dust to side chicks






I forget the words 

The ones which make it right




Was one


I want to say Life of Brain Hole




I gather a small army

A line, this time, frequented by so many


In so many and too many


I tell Honey, die as you must

I respect their life’s limitations




When the body is no good

When the words not even


As we love ourselves

As we kiss ourselves

Fuck ourselves


What is the mind’s eye if not a hippie tool

And if God Hates Hippies 

She must hate us most of all for the permission