somehow forget this pathetic communication.
I'll then have green harmony,
. . . under denial, furlowed, every laugh,
Throw on positive water, enervate delight.
Father hated skirts like that,
but she tried out group pressure.
Weren't they too bold to presume?
Let grace abscond the husband's light.
Orphan, my opaque soft instrument,
knows me here, he creates me and you,
but walks to perform.
And though dry, improves my every faith.
Foolish wife, who thinks totally!
She means the Friday. She's so arid!
I have form, obdurate metaphor!
Do cuddle, never use pride.
See, it could have resented, Brother!
We present how time mounts an awesome wild pain.
Call for an attachment at the mouth
and then they'll reverse character.
The time which appeared?
When did you want a psychedelic review?
Fine, his death had been lame,
A bad song over, I'm all gone.
Study, investigate!
Must her piece so young, paint so dirty until now,
Address, his fashion world,
love a curious, turgid, festoon.
Don't sculpt me,
Carve space.
May 26, 2006, with Ona V____, 47, 48, 49
The Muse Poems:
