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        Dancing at liaison school I know so well, and pouring the batch into an empty milk carton to sour, I placed silent contempt ahead of protecting my priorities, tapping on the roof wearing strap shoes that are guiding my feet the way they should go and be heard. Paper trees falter. Surely fall eventually. I hope. Sweetness, a fast to rid myself of the throes connected with excess proclivity. Carrying a branch on my back, I hunch forward a bit, it doesn't bother me. I need my branch as much as I need my built-in life support systems that use my body for what it will give it. Virtual slave. I get wet when it rains. Setting a baby hair to the floor, saying goodbye. I parched the hyde on my body. Innvriature again to see that I have not lost some of my older views, chronic ailment caused by certainty. To be assured that anything wrong will become fine as things progress. And seeing it fail. The impressions dig.


        So sturdy was my little toe at one time. Now it won't move for me anymore. To grow old. Pinching the pus out of my wounds to kill time.


        I made a drawing so raw, perverse. I threw it away. Showed no one. Told no one of a bad deed done, except during late night vigils after the lights were turned out. I can talk best then. When no faces show in hard florescent bulbs and my throat clears of its phlegm. I lie down and confess. In the morning I wonder if I had dreampt it all; and then fear that I had not. Sometimes I can't remember my name. I do not like it. It doesn't suit me. I can't think of any other name that really fits me. Names don't transcend into eternity. Crap. They leave me; hurdle someone else. Susie, Susie, Susie. Power in a title, and tellers handle money wearing cute name tags, steep towers are titled by rich investors, probably their dog. The clock turns and points to others; it seems that way in everything. Corkscrew's pulling out.

        I should change. Go to a pioneering nomer. Pressure points would stop though. I feel they would.


        The decibels rise when sapphire hits the outer rim in black galaxy luck. See the family standing there. Together. Mortal. They wrap arms at the beginning and end of each 


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