You were drunk and hatching
baby birds
the northwest windup
toy or pitch
clocking shots
for the air
went amber
pungent bitters too
treasure under the tidal wave
dumping seeds off the cliffs
god was Babylon-esque
but she could overcloud mothers
i just turn seasick autumn
and the extreme gear
is full of boredom now
barely works
but still does fadeaway shows
not honest work or dishonest work
stealing from yourself is a long con
reserved for anniversaries
You just astride a bit
a digestive belch and say excuse me
and then cover your beak
that's such a rogue thing
to pretend manners precede mannerisms
but you laugh now
so excuse the brackish head shake
i leaded off with
just love sleep lately
and i miss being a punky piece of shit
where everything hurt
but nothing hurt to do