Ideas of reference

The pondering of my body odor the howling roof conspires.
Proof we belong to the genus immuscular houses do.
Their exploding laughter bombs in all the lathe.
What made them that talked itself to smudged pieces.
New catalysts for obelisks these square skeletons.
Fresh as gray matter ignorant of its being.
There is enough when the hungry species tramples home.
The beating system all brain, thought none.
Go back a little and inherit the urge to flutter.
Flutter back and assemble time, the smell of pine.
And ocean salt. And cities in the ground met no footprint.
The music of eating and excreting before that stampede.
One cannot own the chatter the sane assaulted with.
One may have long conversations in patterns of sin.
Brain. Then skin on these square skeletons.
The pursuit of ugly peace and ugly questions.
Bodies spoke here to each other in violence.
Which room tells most generous with it?
Which room’s sin rings most eloquent?


~ by Jeremy on April 4, 2012.

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