That mind and I survive
together and I lust harmlessly the
cross of schedules.
With a heart full of groceries
I wander appetite roads
wearing an enormous blue
mustache like a dessert.
Perhaps you have seen her
indeterminate No
from where she reigns
atop the mosque of sleep?
I’ll continue to prism
the vast outer centuries
until the gavel comes down
upon my conscience.
Who's purring genius,
so thoroughly sidewalk,
climbing what's rafters.
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