becomes is captive
sorry for this but then it’s not

of the usefulness of

even talk
is fog
her beautiful
little self


“i put dada on my head to show birds
my quiet lungs are dada sunsets
more more dada than dairies in rivers
completely selling & spending us
i put dada on my foot to bless it”


sets her
lovely voices
in two
gilt frames


The comments to this entry are closed.