Look, damn you, I only came here to do a thing.
The night had its moment, its breath
and you, you
had a temper, a tempter and
it was all bare.
A leg, a thin,
a meandering lot full of weeds
round your head and there you go
off that way
barely, still
noticing.
Here, an advice.
untempt your suffering.
mooch off your visions.
wrap your self(es)Vests
a(door)((n))round
simple
Do what comes
is
(not better nor worse)
than(k)
Tear a hole,
meat filled water. Do a thing.
can you.
Bullets, Flowers, Leaves by hell-on-a-stick, literature
Literature
Bullets, Flowers, Leaves
I have drawers for bullets
and flowers
and leaves.
The rain sometimes comes
more sometimes than other
times.
The sun sneaks out and splatters
waves on the wall; trees in the wind.
Bullets, flowers, leaves.
The world here is made of rocks
ground down some
and some leave me to wonder
about the works
of simple men
that do so little,
not even as much as the rocks.
Bullets, flowers, leaves.
Spring in Winter
Winter in Summer
and Fall never,
with the sea angry at your elbow
and the people the people the people
who drive the roads back and forth
howling the pavement to
the next whatever
that cannot ever arrive.
Bullets,
Flowers and
Leaves.