Were I to attach this wire to a conch could I talk to the sea as well as listen
To mended ways, bees that hum?
In “the land of opportunity" poesis brings a Peacemaker to go on.
After a hundred days the IceCream Men had fallen in battle
Like torches in the mud
To the Offended Lie, a new protocorporate lobby that is actually a revolutionary movement.
There were ovaries in the trees.
This then the birthplace of Baby Fruit.
BBQ'ed mouths decorate the inarticulate,
A bitter geography whispered me to call an ear,
To cheer aspiring waves. No.
Was I Ill then of no cause and less effect?
We're down in the muddy suck the interstices of the you and me
A place to fuck and mushy seas,
Black water and ripe disease.
Tease me then if I see no hope
Like bananas slipping on the soap,
The sexiness of fear when I leer into the gap,
Absorb me if you can, single me out as a man for worse
Of peels of skin, liar laughs
Smirks under the skirts of cannons singing and canonical bling.
Where the birds fly upside down the purge is on
No 3D of space, no 3D time but the threnody one line they say
Should the decline belong to us
Then meaning will belong to the less.