(1) Her Hair Rustling in the Late-Winter Breeze
(2) And it was the Year when it Became
Increasingly Clear that I was your
Epiphyte
(3) To Object: (unto) Laughter; To Subject:
Always (into) a Disaster
(4) It was a Brutal Warning: the Ensuing Days Shall be a Larger-than-Life Meat-Grinder
(5) And that Moment, when your
Opponent Comes at you, all the more Fiercer
(6) The Heart of the Fighter Prostate at the Feet
(7) Thus: If our Love were Empty, then this Postmark would be but Space
to Place a Nervous Surface
(8) “It was the Sweet Science of
Bruising.” She Said.
(9) As one Might Assign, a Concept, as
Such
(10) Or this: Against a
Neurotic Background
(11) Apparently, this City Spreads its Cheeks over its Borders, Towards the
Preposterous “Giving Face” so to “Make Sense”-------------------------------------àHowever, Perhaps,
the City, Rumbling with us, is Rather, Over-the-Full
and nips
(12) Lubricating so to Eventually Speak of this Subject
(13) in
other words:-------------àOne Got
Socked and Admitted as Such
(14) The Face will Eat but Also Digest
of its Dogged Terrain
(15) Perhaps it is The Disaster’s Imposing Figure that Strangles one into
the Muck of Objectivity
(16) “I was Never Apocalyptic…” She Said
(17) Thus: if this isn’t Perfection, then my Temper was only an Anthem
(18) in
other words:---------------------------------àThis: Corrects
(19) Our Time was but a Form of
Sleepwalking Drawn-Out Against the Strength of a Linen History
(20) And Always:-------------------------------------àas it
Slays