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