Untitled

Like mediation – I must fake it till I make it

Go grab the gun and get the pencil sharpener

Put the gun inside the pencil sharpener

turn the thing.

Throw a hot shot at the dome called his cranium.

Am I making any sense, like an eclipse inside a stadium?

Peering out the window I see Earth at a distance

Imagine the Detroit Lions playing the Detroit Pistons.

Go get the space heaters and turn them on all at once

Imagine ejaculating onto the glass of a storefront.

Like baby powder, you sniff me fresh

Like a fallen angel, I’ve been blessed

Red gloves on my crime-doers

Take a tick or two to think of you

Was Jesus suicidal?

Drop whatever you is doing

And die clean.

I am wearing a navy blue American Eagle hoodie.

Put on gloves like the damnation eternal

Am I making any sense, like ducking under a hurdle?

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