the day is a drum that connects
these vocal loops
with grey traffic circles
bridge after bridge
as u know we look for u
in the park the terse
wood under trippers light
are spawning sharp thighs
shafts and cunts melting
in the firs' limbs
gossip surrounds you
wish to start our conversation off
and start another wish you'd
come back and clean up this town
the wind rises
smoking holds feelings down
drinking retards this movement
in the chest i cry in bed
walk steep tracks in the dry spells
there is no why
they can articulate
that is more than running water
care for me
the living hold each other
and philosophy falls
out of all our mouths
while by the lakeside
trees fuck in the storm
almost nobody else sees
