use a yellow brush
hence the defenses

mode: authorized confession, unhappiness

My flawed brain led me to kill all kinds of things.

So. Fixed in place. Fixed to place. Fixed of place.

I killed a public library for starters. I killed bugs

and bunnies. And still needed fixing. Intersecting

imaginarily a life while killing a street a path a

lane. My addiction to this savagery finally brought

me to stage some rather well-known people as killers

of linen paper poetry and more insects small mammal-

lives. Ended. My flaw hit the world in uncoordinated

ways that left most of us ajar askew off-kilter and

nervously expectant. Clunky. Petty. Wasted as oxygen.

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