Friday, March 11, 2011

Where is the King of Ireland. Tim roams the desert. There is no water, no food, no walkman. Tim roams the desert alone. Gorillas watch from the roses. Gorillas trade places with Tim. Coffee mugs rain. The letters. Once there was a man. Assembly. Broken boxes made of chalk create water that lives from the sanctity of human emotion. Where the blood runs to I can't find. I love birds.

No comments:

Post a Comment