the ideology's all thru me now.
To be distressed about
being stuck in the world of signs
is so late nineties.
We burn off, fat
tyres squeal like girls.
symbilosis getting the horn
dreamage of good hope
disturbution here is a body
cosmonautical emptied for your play
acherish
clit-locked
thoughts are weak nails
Tv shelters me, it feeds
in to the living room, the way
the supermarket keeps you from fields
or our heads caught scrolling
the book's grammatical beat
safe fron the mess of
the concrete
brittle
florid hoha
I fat right in there.
You must push yourself
back into place.
You must pace yourself
up and down rooms
the smell of burning hair in the shed
an abandoned landscape
ripe with families
ALL NEW ISSUES
The relation is cleaned by money.
Economics has no ethical
language you could question it in.
panicea
fur coats fall
the shaken city
bruising and abruptly more kind.
emptinest
Your mouth's an act of violence
centuries of self-hate
accumulate in your hips
pornopathy mathesocial
my presence is tence
Meaning's an illusion
with consequences.
Spring's prickling
giving me fat lips, broken nails
lassitude in the face of order
speed in dreams
a sustained note taking
shape sharpens
ablaze. The trick
is learning how to live
with what we know.
