Am I the one who is challenged
by dancing hooves on black cement and yellow paint
mental illness will carry the weight of my country
and give birth to skinny fur and sexual curiosity
I am hungry and am in disgust by the consumed mouth
I have made love with Satan
I have made love with men
may my great woman of bathing babies and home cooked food
converse artificial bible verses
may my love’s love be unattached to the state
pretentious and ignorant
beat, beatitude, for she will fly
she is flying
I am creating passion with dead poet’s minds
beat, beatitude, recreating fucked poet’s minds
Sam, no one has heard the tragic death
in a room, an old folk, solitude, crying
no one can hear
wet hands pressed up to her eyes
she is the beauty, unconditional promise
Will, Al, Jack, you are the sun ravers
I am the dried grape
we are one unite, untieable chords
and everlasting creation
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