These details and their temporal degradation
spit stillness and reciprocal snow
At night, carillons scream like gulls
streaming through sexually-bruised skies

and lighting on the relief of faces
You smile as if this were understanding
The fire department, slow to respond, hungry
slide as if on strings down the street

and reach a conflagration. Somehow
we’re holding hands, maybe
to ward off the vicious pink of the clouds
Anyway, we’re in love, adjacent

and content as per this series of treaties
That haunted pang still hurts when I walk

Inside an hour to go before have to hide the pillbottle have to hide the pills is the broil of gaze ranging across yer flesh selflessly until the past grazing on you sucking the pith of yer silhouette and all of these experiments have been made and failed blisters demure howitzer is it sir the emblem melts with succesive engravings of a peaked devil methamphetamine directory until lighting on the correct recordset smtp server based on ip freely transparent windows with lineage jelly messiah and neomail was a dead end too

Hot little thing, our eyebrows slant us wicked
Hot little thing in a glass of morning milk
Hot little thing needs her feelings verified
O Hot little thing, no nw messages on the server

Hot little thing with thaw thwarted chipper
Hot little thing, a morning glass of pus and sky
Hot little thing boasts soaring and soreness
Hot little thing sending login string

O Hot little thing, beware my vicious temper
Hot little thing, and my elephantine pride
Hot little thing, you want to twist my neck
Hot little thing, broken soft on the inside

The officer surrendering hit dead around asleep stripes. Mr. Haskell, you can’t die, no. Were I could leave the car and be swallowed up. The right answers will now swerve around literature acquired as always free at the doctor’s office, was a woman, phoenix, a desert turgid with larvae, amorphous like soundless salt skewering the eyelids, even the drapes. You’re a cheap crook and you killed him. As crooked as you look, curling roughly anonymous, mine naming mine tries to stop at the next store. Now we pirouette. A dealer might think something was funny if enough flurry speed accrues. I try to interject, but there’s nowhere for the voice to come from. If I didn’t want to give you a drinhk I wouldn’t have offered it.

Hot fog and noir with feet of snow
carving the path and the passengers
from the elevated vantage, uh, voltage
play scatter pastures at shovel in the alley

Lilith, I say, I’m gonna call you Mary
of the patient brown eyes: uh, time
might makes you higher than the road
or snow, cleared’s now, shovel

In the alley your eyelashes shatter pace
sauced-up gummy in vicious drawl
until my toes numb, my moustache aches,
living together above the enlightened village.

Um. Your first volley was lucious. Your form
had rambled on. Would any city be as smart?