i'm too dehydrated and tired and out of drive to try and edit these weirdos from 2004. i never learned to write better. i don't have a system of caution. it's as free and dark as it goes. as lively and confusing as i am. but i love coming across old writings because nothing makes sense.
earth's demanding elegance. taken from under the wing. broken off in majesty tops, sinking ships -
the bodies rock.
dark circles, baggy deteriator, (i don't know if i wanted to say deterioration instead) annihilates its percussion of drums and saxophones, swinging / agricultural division. i've absorbed the veins in their place, drew them out as planks of bent sticks. the house i built with my own hands broke down in shells. crackles out of the blue.