

MomentumI can, what I can't is lost inMomentum
Momentum, moment to moment, next push to last gasp, til babycries are man-wept: (sobs ain't soiling this throat, they'll find the force and fuel the next push to last gasp.)
I am, what I was was cast away in
Momentum, moment to moment, this push to next roll, til boylaughs are goodhearted: (Just hang on, the jokes ain't leaving, they'll grow into gravity groove this push to next roll.)
I will, what I didn't is gone in
Momentum, moment to moment, best try to low descent: (my tim


No title...This bangs and stings slops around in my chest these overflowing bubblyboiling sentiments of lovelust. I'm largely lacking in luster, gusto or... what festers in my belly isNo title...
last night's lonely locked lips my life lost in laconic limps. She's beautiful. So was the last one. And the next one too. Flingfall in lovelust
after two shots
and half as many sentences spatspoken over the jukebox melodymash. I'm largely lacking in luster, gusto or... what pesters my bitter brains is random rants and racing rotten ruminations on why I'm ridicul


Poem of sortsI remember looking up at the eucalypts with theirPoem of sorts
thin silvergreen leaves like streamers,
lifting and stirring like one giant, sleeping creature. The trunks tall and comforting, they arched over me like a mother. In the moment I thought they were wind-tressed wispy women,
slim white arms gracefully balancing the sky.
I dreamt of clouds shaped like stallions In a soft motion haze they galloped and in the moment I swore I was upon them, swift and unstoppable higher and higher and still higher until- -until anywhere. Racing time and life racing the dusk-eagle as it
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Flying is the art of throwing yourself to the ground and missing it
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Flying is the art of throwing yourself to the ground and missing it
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[link]
Flying is the art of throwing yourself to the ground and missing it
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