As in, that which occurs often, narrowed by revelry
Calm never comes that comes but even if I were the wine
that’s relatively clean heat
Powder for each cheek papier mâché
The tonic for internal
Call me hot stuff. Spin spidersilk hoods
Sublimate anything and the name
Call me brimstone.
Sing my lungs and bathe the lashes that spell
in seams and war.
to all of wrath, rising steady as steam along the highway
for every house.
of hallowed ground and scraped-up girl.
complaining is a burn purgative by nature.
so you see not light but edible darkness—the ship above the last white whale.
into manageable form flowers. Is flower.
the letters the brightest salt.