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Click hereLimp, sequestered, amygdalic, I trusted your leonine shape
to guide my spirit onto a libidinous freeway.
I remember nothing more than Dr. Reich moaning.
He had been beaten the night before and his orgone was dull and blue.
And then the fire took me as a telegraph talks to God—
quantized, boost and drop. I sent photons to my friends.
In that late November, Forever became the nightspot of choice
and many of the cognoscenti delivered rabbits on its marble floors.
There are four things to remember about love, but I have suffered
several concussions and only recall one: The moon is always green and full.
You are never up for election in the fetish of my fiefdom. When the king
is in residence, your light smears reasoning like ground raisins.
Smoke. There always is smoke with tires. Ineluctable.
There is, however, also cause for salmon, upstream, ungelded. Milt.
Together in mind - body and spirit. No one else is even being considered.
Lets talk about the concussions - are they over - or are you suffering flashbacks. The 4 things to remember about Love: I Love Smoked Salmon
Sadist. The last person to get me to spend so much time in the dictionary on a single poem was cymry. Really enjoyed this one but you need to take a break from all those form poems ~ it's starting to get to you!