Everywhere
Echoes say nothing
of longing for constancy,
nor in their "movement" of bitterness
nor of particularly happy milliseconds.
Pleather tresses squeal
only when rent by rough hands, wind,
an exacto's dropped glitter.
In other words, not on their own.
In other words, not on their own.
Be indifferent to innocent stucco.
Something is dying everywhere!
Best allocate "assets" wisely, with good sense.
Fantasies can be used for upward mobility.
Failed attempt at "greatness," though, are typical,
aren't they?
That I could give a single formula:
the brain would not house poems
and bricks would stand as bricks.
the brain would not house poems
and bricks would stand as bricks.