i broke at six months

“where-in-forever and godside
have you gone to now?”
i have gone to where the goblins go
below below below
then back to bellow mellow yellow
loving the tiny frogs
twinkly toes in the bright stream
mastering the goofy guffaw
bounce the bouncing love song
waiting for godot to get me stoned
it is not a thing unlike byron
it is very much the words are not
the thing the thing is much better
the thing is livy-breathy makelove
the growing of oldness near the newness
oh i have no thing to be but perfect
then crack for a dog
patch it up with little pieces of word
to perfect again
everything can be done
sea cucumber

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