oh... hello, fédefo.

from 7/30/22

rose bushes burning by Broadway stoked cherry voices the bleeding heart's crossroads anthropological box

did Moses find traffic worse leaving Egypt, or greeting Canaan?

Bronzed, Aged on Golden Coasts wine-glassing Silver Hills

abuelo Dalí turned tinder for chitchat oozing warmcore aesthetics taking their t i m e

just to rimstick sugar no shaved legs dangling in mulled community pools

did Simon & Art mean that Bleecker Street keepgoing keepgoing a nodding hand goingoingoing all the way to the end will wind me up in Canaan?

we're long past the Middle tongues seeking muscle tension wound-wriggling, salted citrus

would Jesus D.A.R.E. turn Dead Sea sangría in Palestine?

our story sits under bloody Himalayan heavens begging for gushing, then mending

even clouds don't get tinfoil problems platinum coke surgical steel septum linings gangrene frostraw, shrieking snowblind THE LIGHT IS TOO LOUD!! we wonder why we nEver FUCKING Rest then yank our braided climbaxes brainropes of little siblings to Sea East China, Philippine

if i get a grip on Pinocchio's nose move passt the donkey and t h r o u g h the whale will Geppetto teach me how to shave in a Valley of cabins in New Canaan?

[if the point is to come, why even show up? scale Kama Sutra Palisades instead. everyone with a pen pisses pyrite imitations, travel pamphlets at best, at worst dissertations]

(by the way, Bukowski, you missed a lion— Pedro took the photo for that reputed text

but never got the check they allegedly sent to his current address in New Jersey)

far enough east and Sendai's San Francisco TexMexiCaliZona Nepal'snOwklahoma we fleas seek the end of a cat's storied mane sowing scalps to pluck tufts harvests we call ours

tho our trenchgullets know Pacific is Atlantic

we'll all feel the same roar