& then I said,
hush now while I study crumpled leaves.
Too much time I’ve wasted ‘way from weeds.
& then I thought,
¿what is it ‘gain I required to need?
Awkward words won’t let me better be.
& then I’d seen:
Summer garbed in tombstone. & in medias day,
Pepto-dysmal fixes rest to lay.
I shall admit:
sometimes poison hurts my stomach;
guess that means it’s just time to pump it.
summer rain—
June bugs left with just
dot dot dot
Uh huh. That’s right:
I played emo music in the public,
private.
I’m a socialist, Smirnoff. Hic.
If you don’t know about the tavern,
then it is time.
SI PUEDO OBTENER MIS DIAS PERDIDOS DE NUEVO,
¿PUEDO USARLOS VOLVER AL CAMINO?
NEIN.
Not much time…
dot dot dot
thermometer falls—
summer breeze
No tea leaves will feed this thirst.
Can’t keep back this damn dam’s burst.
So much wasted water works.
Should have bought electric 1st.
Great wall noise. Keep out beasts.
Don’t use voice. Reddened crease.
Hard skinned kois. Itchy spring.
Have no choice what summer brings.
We’re rolling suicide, session 3. ¿Are we recording?
¿What? No, Spivak, just—just press this button her—shit. No, not that button. God, no. (Laugh). You almost fucked up the recording, ¿you know that?
«(Laughs). I’m sorry, androgyn. I didn’t know.»
Yeah, be careful with that, ¿OK?
«(Laughs). That would’ve been so bad if that happened…»
Autumnal June—
gray’s back in cement
catching up…
