of seismic homosexual incisions made in the brain of a 1950's nihilist
saturn rises from the valley of my neck and sets in the folds of my hell-drunken veins [ #1 in poetry, 1.25.19 ]
𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘥𝘰𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘎𝘰𝘥 POETRY
from lovers lips a love is lost then found again
i squeeze the tar out my brain
a natural hierarchy
poetry is a visceral string of four years of summer