do you read me.

for once i start at the beggining, desperately.
shifting is all important, as is the motion, motioning
toward the paper, this is the thing. movement slopes.
Again thinking of floral things, and underneath. are you a
languageinthehead sort of person? the other day i moonlit,
chicklit, legumes, crosshatching, harvests, estapol.
These things are related. There was a generation that knew
to quote. kenneth, kent, these are names of mine, on the farm,
threshing, sluicing, holding all things dear to us – small horns grow.
Callous, streets ahead, calcium builds tension, Tennyson jackets
along. Everything is action. Watch as my glands slowly rise
pressing flowers against my throat.

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