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| are you so perfect to sneer at me |
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| beat |
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| bunny love |
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| but why sad? it's life, it flows away. but to what shore. |
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| concreto man |
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| daylight noir |
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| disarmed by tenderness |
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| fun with the jetsams |
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| my gooser winnie |
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| goregina |
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| her pictures were of assertion and disappearance. bold, withdrawn. effaced and in your face. aesthetic ambivalence that grew terrible yet remain peaceful, on edge. |
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| i get sad all the photos go to no beach |
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| i may read her diary. shit i should throw mine out. what if i die and people read that shit. think of uncle mikes crippled pages. wow, so lost. |
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| idle no what i expect, drawn to tragedy, then hollowing, the work seems like an attempted life, the person gone, like i'm gone, but real gone, did i preempt myself? was i only a want? |
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| let be be finale of seem. the only emperor is the emperor of ice cream. |
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| yeah, uh, i wrote that, yeah, that's right. |
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| loving winnie, or, |
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| my girlfriend has another man. |
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| my glasses abrasions my eyes well with sand |
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| no matter what you gon feel time blow through your bones like wind and clouds surge your mind your eyes gonna tear up with whispered dust. |
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| orange quincunx for wanderers |
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| our tribe is empire it will vanquish you |
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| peace bunny |
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| prospectus |
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| scottie kept asking what's his name i said comet, like the shooting star, he said but what's his name? his grandma said you like the thing they put the satellite on. |
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| shit manb i just dont know what to tell you i think you cant help who you are |
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| she was so intense, said she wanted to show people something, but it took too long, after she was dead |
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| it would have been great if she could see her work with the people of the future |
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| succumbus |
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| terwilligers, twins in one |
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| thanks lil buddy |
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| the thing you want to capture needn't be |
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| the likelihood of emerging somewhere else |
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| we're history, we're making it, we're making history here. |

























































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