softness
paste! making hats out of cereal boxes,
climbing trees to rescue
the integrity of emptiness.
howling to me, whispering to you.
jump jump don't jump. take ahold of my hand
and lets get me down up out
and into the blue red future
a rooty planted fullness
chop chop, hurry!
before the chief of defeat
starts throwing hard biscuits.
021110
...
ryen Her skin. 040305
what's it to you?
who go
blather
from