--
tempted by hot spirits
seduced by any number
of holey distractions
to pierce my sight whole
I insist on honing all corners cut
folding the edges back
on collapsing shelters
I got names
I got titles
with essential questions
making marks out of vapor
look past my beard grown grey
see through the rags that fall away
to expose my speeding skin
scripted in alien wrinkles
time ticks? time flees
time antes up my itches
just a notch worse every day
every flight is a failed escape
bracing for abrupt, final rise of land
--
Wine of the Day, No. 845
Fa 17 hores