[response to “In one encyclopedia there could nothing raw…”]

the home movie resumed its present-tensed glory. you took to laying a thing that isn’t really a thing but now i’m like stop freaking out what the fuck is wrong with you. to say ‘i love when people put up bikini pictures’ is to bear some resemblance to a torture device whose murder is no longer, as they say, ‘in it’. got my phone cracked. no hope but toothcombs of binary decay. the funny thing is that there are no women in any of the photographs, especially the ones of shoes and weddings. tonal flesh qualities. people tell me there are eleven real facts but i can’t count for the sake of scraping pulps off a sixty degree egg. watch it, this is america, there’s no ‘g’ in yoghurt and certainly not in your lap. baby, you got it so everyone should take their seats cause without skin, the air burns &none, none left to savor licks in cardboard corners.

[read the response “Celebration, commonly marking the occurrence of something…”]


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