Marc Pollifrone
the transorbital mustang
into fine lines of unfocused un-finite
hurling towards we are not
we are knodding on ether
how withers hastened
how lies too lest asleep
how much north matters
even yellow can pray
remember the brightly pink shaking
remember the some some of dreams is drenched
drenched in the squeaks of souls
in hallways of every waiting waiting
for the evisceration of weighting
it is always there
to hang you
in the fishing
of your leathers
drinkable on side tables
from the
fifties people call you
about gluten but not about toe nail clippers
remember milkshakes
mausoleums marooned on the
dastardly side table things
in time find stares at the belly of
mad mad
visage softly softly the crane sleeps
sleeps about midnight sugar coaxers
of incongruent powders from latrine sunsets
only light is pink
when you speak
of birthdays birthdays of all things birthdays
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