bad guys in tie dyes wild oats and pigs and goats blow the coals in that there hole gates locked

his ears are stones his opinions explosions he doesn’t want to hear sit and think about it with distilled inspiration

Crawl across my foot my little worm friend. Together we’ll bake our wrinkly bodies in the sun. I’ve nothing else

And furthermore, once you are dead, ground up and rotting for years, long after your rancid flesh is devoured by

Now that I know you, pretty girl. Now that I know you better than any other curious man, I’d like

The stars were mine, or should’ve been, so I named them all. Mapped and patterned them. Like someone must of

I need to know each one, to taste the rock and swallow the sand. To spend a life caressing each