half_asleep_poem_fifty raze people are locations. she was always someone who looked like a bit of a journey to me. sometimes the thought fades before i can claim it, nesting the taste of sketchy milk from grassy form. first, i'm excited. but then, the more i spin, the more i wonder. our minds if we shook in the dirt: defiantly white light. a bird wrapped in bacon. the first star in the sky. you sifted through travesty and shoveled your pain every day you were weak. how could you not give up? if god had let this happen, perhaps he would kidnap us without taking refuge in our hearts. invention is the memory of reason, and i beg you to pour it on me, giving me or making me a part of things i can't see. you're years ahead of me and minutes behind. 230926 what's it to you? who go blather from