SLICES
I like
x-mas lights
in the woods.
white.
and your
eyes wet
from
rain.
curses
carry
farther
when
you�re
10.
When I
was little
& sleepless,
my mother
told me
     the devil
would
take me.
in the
night,
I grew
   up
with
consequences
I should have smashed her face in�.
It would have been a start
But today I promised to be happy

Even under the falling rain
I knew violence
And skidded
My car

Delusional smiles, a latte,
a cell phone.

I think she deserves to crash
I should be the one to swerve into not away

Find some Post Modern permission
Write a  Road Rage ending.

I didn�t even have to time
to give  her the finger.


I have a different genre of seeing.
Sketched notes in pencil on the
Fabric of things,
The long winded road of things.
Memory like tracing paper
Creating new corners and shaded
Edges, over permanent inks left
From some other time period,
I become occasionally unhinged.
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