any part of me you remove / will grow back
a game, something someone / played, once.
…more than a pool / of smudges and parts.
“In the background always a lake, / always the one you kept trying to row across.”
“the swell / of narcotics transmuted / into testament”
“baptized in loose silt / of Mississippi relish”
“the sky slowly clearing, but clearing to what”
My mind / Is like the harp strings, with a breeze blowing always / And no rest in sight.
That the belts move / among grease
I have nothing to say. I am a recording machine, / a listening device.