we’re so preoccupied with eating god, like little termites, building wooden houses to die in.

i must be a consumer whore of loneliness, standing at the customer service isle for a return, no refund, just a credit for more.

your a wild gold dust version,
caught in the tree tops of clumsy revolutions.
“we can do this girls”,
and clumsy revolutions.
skinned knee’s and sticky lips,
lolly in hand like a declaration
of some ass kicking time.

nothing is gone,  the impressions left when choosing to step out of my own seal skin and wonder into someones domesticated amen’s is a sticky humbled home. but on occasion, i have seen masks come off, torn off like you take a lover, just as i have come to understand the tremendous amount of courage required to celebrate someones shape without projecting yours upon it. as our personal universe expands, it makes it easier to watch the things separate from us that don’t hold well to courage. eventually, that wall will stretch to a saran wrap, even making god transparent.  and this is my inspiration to you, to take off your clothes and looking into the future and penetrate beyond the veil of his flesh.

i want antlers for eyes, i want to be suprised.

cherry coke sucks, have great hours at your employment cell? do you have any jumper cables?

“wanting things makes you trust, i want to trust a deer, but i dont want one, i would trust myself, if i had antlers”.

“my feelings are a sticky humbled home”

robert