rapid fire...

its not about having more arrow than the next indian
its about having a gun;

---fire house rounds of scondal into your sheets...
sleep on the cake, dream of pink tales
in bleached deserts
tickle the rip; tickle and scream all sorts of sobs.

its a bad life if you dont weaken,
so weaken---sleep through what you can,
fall apart and swim in the liquid face.
grimbol out