wires i mo’fo’
wind
A pain has lodged in my jaw. It goes on and off, just like
that. An irradiating dot. Situation: earthy. Half
my face in wires of pain, waves of pain in the gum. Awful hot proximity to
the tired and tender brain. O the head’s
a soccer ball of blood, heart a trembling cup. It goes off and on, just like
that, the pain. Sometimes it’s best
to be quiet. Sadness a toll booth always
open. Get yours, Soul. Hard to fathom
the flesh of the brain, noise of the mind. Is bees. Are
wind. SSS$$$$hhhhhhhhhhh.
Oh
B
ee
s $$ $$ $$ $$
$$ $$ $$ $$$$ $$
$$$$ $$ $$
rain s $$ $$ $$ $$
$$ $$ $$ $$$$
$$ $$$$ $$
$$
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!! !!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!! !!!!!!! !! !!!! !!!! F !!! ra !!
! Me !!! !!!!!! !! ! ! ! ! ! e ! !
! ! !!!!o !! !! ! !!!! ! ! ! a ! ! ! ! ! r ! ! !
! ! ! r o u t ! e ! !
! !
!
! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! ! ! !
! ! ! ! $ $ ! |
Oh
a ··········· y ·······$··· [what was that last?]
oh oo ho o o oh om o oooo o oo oo o
oooo o o
oo o o ooo
oo o m o ·· ··········· ···· ······· ········· ··· · ········· ·· ·········································
·· ········· ························································ [can you speak more
clearly? it must be the storm; you’re
breaking up] |
No one in my mother’s family is still alive. A pain has lodged.
Trembling cup. A ringing in one of my ears, very ōhm. Is that the sound of flesh, somehow, in its
core? When it isn’t otherwise expelling,
growling, chirping, saying, sucking? A
dial-tone in my left ear; someone left the phone off. Trembling cup. Terror a speck, hovering in front of our eyes.
There went a bee, just now, with all of my plans.
It matters not, O thirsty people. It
matters not, Coke is It. In matter
do you conceive me? God rot. The
flesh of the brain, tender and tired. Mother,
I can’t find you. mother mother mother Sometimes,
we have to say nothing to say anything at all.
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