Fundamental Verities



I’m still throbbing from the instruction.  The trashing of Basquiat-like sound art.


Dear tutor I bought everything and gave you all.

Breaches of etiquette pocked our new record.  Sharp taps blunt blows. Tap-tap blow-blow. 


It was touching and low if anyhow.


Still you coin sweet sedition like Vargas Llosa, old growth new republic the promised currency in increments of braless dawns.


Still, Parties need electrocution.  Some things true some things base some things true and base. 


The defenders point at black sombreros.  Every scope has a vanishing point where intelligence consorts with mirage. 


What happens in Vegastan? 


Inglory shapes a cause market: plus-sized catwalks unfiltered tracks party crashers outed blowers. 


And these only the charming particulates. 




My stubble visits your stubble 

feeling almost completely understood



Friend make us feel full of repurpose like that toy store on Canal that only sells broken toys.


O public privates 

O harmless hurt 

O serious play! The indelicacy our ruin porn festering like a slimy pond.


You said No dance is devoid of derision. And it was so.


And it was so early and dark and we were so young and impolitic. And it was so.


Still your argyle tickles me like a crowded train.  Still I turn still I unclose. 

This knees to chin doubt in my grip released by your loving lies.



 Milenio mejora pronto.


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