unnamed New York
here in the beautiful
heat
digging & digging for
you
in your wide & wonderful
pause
day subway
de doggie
I was trying
to say it
writes
in bites
citizen aged local literary
queer cocksucking shop—
ping pussy
manifesting not
will Arnold win
if you enjoyed
smoking in bars
study French expressionism
employ your
loss
buy a car
take a course
make a college
buy something old
again & again
& again
the sneaker
swings
I like it here:
it’s orange
& my hands are free.
The new books
was composed by picking shit
out of a wave.
Wherever they said vague
I thought vague
I couldn’t help laughing
standing at the bottom
of my pit.
I thought Mark Twain was
here in the
crater of a giant
tomato
big artists like error.
The tomato
Missed.
Being intended
to hit god
it hit his mother
I speak for
her.
