tare the yarn

Page


suiper ladies brought
their bluejeans
to me,  fried up kindly on
their hindlegs kicked-
up ballet style. As I
awoke
the coverage dust me apparent:
    old curtains
    pains abide my body’s age
    Caesar’s servants poking my bare feet
    my wife slapstick hordes the gabreze
    sky blue in my window dull rots green an algae day




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