pungent/sounds/
atmosphere, i am alone by myself with nothing
around/inside/
i should not be/beyond my years,
++++++++++++++++
the lion and the wolff
made something
out of a photograph
painted smoke that withered
the mass
between
my ears,
float accross the boroughs, between
telephone
lines,
'cause when i bring to the table
my life and
heart, cold;
wives flinch at my skin,
stories
their fathers told
i never consciously tried to conceive of what [i] should be