yours is every mouth and mine is every flesh and ours is every bad love ever manmade and ground into every bobbled fibre that does the good work and keeps this earth from spinning wild free off its fucking axis into any single howling night

a friend's been reading my poems i like then he said some he went on look like they only took one second to write they did i said he laughed and said i still like them as in despite and as though somehow he'd stuck out his pale neck. i looked at him until i had remembered the rules: a week should take seven [...]

before language before all this got shore up bird tree mine his hope before any that got put on out where sky an water same same out here kneeling in the dark blaze earth gonna pluck out new sounds cut new runnels same blood thirsty now quick for new veins boiling to bust open old words get down [...]