New Year’s Day

Wikipedia Poem, No. 883

        Like a final decision?
No.
Then it—

    I know
the sound
of yr idling
presence
   of cheap life:
        this
too late,
son.

   Sale for free

       vertigo
without orientation

sale for free

vertigo
without orientation

 sale
 for free

 vertigo
without
        weird
        lines.

       Statistically speaking, engine rich
   with gasoline
    
the stations
the
    desirable ones at least
         between dick and
burn it down.

I know the
sound of yr idling
about wild
   
weird
lines appear
       or disappear
 or
         then disappear
        and disappear
    or disappear.

Image

Artifacts of Reference, No. 29