three minutes to parlay in the bedside elevator.
to decide to cross the dockyard rabble
passing out defective thermos bottles and
tacky tiaras.
still a degree of noise for quinine and lettuce.
manager's big toe wrapped in gauze
and dipped in a yogurt cup.
comatose, on the extension, in a throwaway gesture.
candles on top of sawhorses...light up the clifftop barriers.
commando squad of eleven
climbing up from the reef
to execute from behind.
Respectfully add a smear of nothing.
Mockery from the man with the corncob complexion.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
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