Wednesday, January 10, 2007


My word gun is

undone here atop

the chaffe of

splitscreen defaulted

faultlines. I crop

mop-topped slop

amid midnight ice skies

Try to fly

you’ll capsize

doll faces
careen streetside

my idiot bean

needs screening

but I fail to make stain
instead streak hapkido

Commercials moan

above flatscreen

dojo here in the

future so jello.

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