#3

and they laugh, unburdened by their own greatness,

they question intention on every breath,

these repotted souls amongst us-rooted firmly to ideas,

around is

grey

comical ashes flicked from ledges above, and they laugh,

a cancerous snow falling into their hair.

Untitled

reality blurs cohesive thought

fragmented brain! (the day)

the heart weeps:

“you are alive, you are alive, you are alive.”

Relinquish

How many words fit into a curvature of the spine?

Our lent ears walking upright –

Sensation gives way to ideation

Cerebral ache, not to be feared,

Praying –

A realistic nobility.

The Center for Redemption

Now open!

Line up like eels and

Be touched by the healing hands of saint Fargo himself.

All the fledglings can sit in the back

With the bones and the crickets –

Two limited sisters will sell you crackers at half price.