WE’LL MAKE HEAVEN
a place
on earth
I am not
sure
if this is
a lifting or
a dropping
baby
do you know?
it would really
help me out
if you could
yeah
it would
I have burned
up
for the
last time
there is a
market
it has
demands
there is
a market
in the town
square
can I
I’ve got needs
leave this here?
if there
was a mark
-et
could you ask
it
for me
thanks
and thanks
again
here
I am
the middle I’m
stuck in
the middle
one million
miles
sidelong of
ashen city
smoked in space
a single evening
friends please
declare your angles
before
felt like
was late
now horns
have blown
town’s empty
turns out
the scene
had been meant
to depict
an exploding tyrant
that special lens
got ruined
in a grease trap
not to worry
there are many
forms of worship
PURPOSE BUILT
exciting opportunity
a subdivision
things I’ve had
burned off of me
or otherwise
beside a highway
immaculate frontages
this dewdrop world
takes place inside
an avocado universe
so there’s that
there’s a power plant
an access road
a service entrance
(already planning
the next one)
there are clouds
behind the wires
there’s an aisle
thru the forest
running cables
down a current
and there’s a web
which is a net
drying out
along a beach
there’s a spider
going shopping
for a new home
for its family
there’s a puddle
collected on top
of the air pump
eating quarters
at the gas station
where we are
there are tires
it is autumn
I’ve lost the thread
of what I’m needing
can you feel
the shore receding
gradual slip
of air entreating
peep some lungs
which once were
breathing
bags inflated
pair of container
ships appearing
at the cloudline
commence
a fog
a meeting
light diffuses
to your chair
sinks enmeshed
in polyster there
aluminum scaffolding
skeletoned against
a trillion granules
the elements
shotgunning
one
for the fun
for the hell
for the sun
not the shell
of a shell
depleting
coppertoned against
distant forces
radiations
forevers ago
the pains
from far away
fizzle into the blink
toward more and ever
more possible extensions
while we’re here
we might as well
employ a strategy
search the codex toward
more and more ex
-emptions
stay blooperprone
do sonic wrongs
airborne refueling
a hopeful song
just give ‘em a wink!
the old what-for!
boot and rally
the sun is a bomb