Wikipedia Poem, No. 614
obscene odes
on windows of the skull
rural happiness of the book
nature stealthily glowers orders
a chinch from the middle of the night
i do i do i watch the whole red attitude burst
a sunday centipeded under what you kids do up
high from the bakery floor obsessed á votre santé
to becoming a book or divest a heaping fluted salary
you must flaunt should flaunt & flip
hair texture even steal you a parisian tip
you transom into the monolith (for thirty year wardrobes
over your shoulder that or these t-shirt saleswomen
parisian-end hole suddenly wallet possible
nevery morning since that order got me silked
sommen i know flaunt the wake up spilt
you slip next to slots time worn on your shore heart
like a sleeve i'm here and talking to you reader
salary red i do i do i don’t happen which is obsessed?
i don’t have an attitude sunday morning & you a sudden
