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all I have to offer you bee is seven am phlegm we (y the docks speaking corpse language
a seance with stiff legs and paper wings
whistling present tense in the backyard of empty McMansion
bones in motion mow the lawn with DOS powered reels over growing weed projection
I offer a particle emanating clover
but they shake their hips in oval dinner party
remembering party petroleum shivers of a canyon consumed
of galaxies sipping on parasite stars
the divine window.windeye left open
in weather best for a translation of our underside shivers left in endless daydreams
which is both a nightmare and relief