>ceramic, erratic bleats

>making love to the noise
half-so-sharp, what yr allowed to hear
but the secret is soft, personal edges
& quick-legged, leggy, we study
because we must our histories made & our
culture, our quick-histories making
the sounds repeating, mostly metallic ghosts
ceramic, erratic bleats, patternless repeating
puddled cups of light over the racing pigs
burn and hiss and sizzle, blip, nothing big
patternless, bang & hapless slide, stripes of red.

>Oh

>What am i running for? Where to?
Yes, to catch the bus and all, but
Why? I can’t get drunk anymore
These ferrets munch my bed, my
Oh, my mailman’s a piss less than dead.

What’s the point, and where’s there to learn?
So, I’ve resolved to sing-a-long to the street
Give up the fight, bound to pick up its rhymes
The cold allows me certain private rights.

Who’s worth deceiving? Not much for a question
Even less of an answer. Pedestrian-eyes alight,
The night no longer gives coin for believing.