english, language

the remedy for a fitful night is ease, its this

words without worried apostrophes, yet still owning

contracting in bigger places, bigger fish eye bowling

the rest of what the world is is behind glass

ignoring repetitions like that that stick in your side

pronouncing words how you want to, you made them

because conjunctions are never faithful or honest

when you have that earnest thing to address

so comfortable, come for table

sit, seat… seethe, not the long angry teeth sucking

rather a salad bowl to seep and steep, rearranged

to kill

all the cringe worthy plaque that builds on your teeth

when you properly see gold 

stir your monopoly instinct

grab everything thinking

and let sink, like soft saddles

like lathered soap bubbles,

like drops on a hard water slide

like oats in a pot, pressed down to soak

like the feeling of fear, losing someone to another

jealousy

like you heels in downward dog

dug in, like fingers lunged into a garden

pressed rice smoothed into your pants

because you wiped dinner hands

 

like 

like

like

facebook, move fast and break things

language was meant to break things

like hearts,

hard hearts broken by first words

Lord… let there be baby talk

let there be light

and there was… and the congregation says “Amen…dada?”

 

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