Thursday, January 12, 2012

Gip

No raison d'etre
but the gesture,
the shit of the swarm
all over my floors.
Let yourself out
of your self
like swans sportfucking
behind a stadium.
Struggle fouls
the cosmic nest
and it is beautiful.
A cowboy is unfolding
in erotic yumminess--
but you only get
the greasy fuckin wrapper.

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