Love volute like pumpkin pie, thickening
voiciferously, as if going feral again–
Void can be touched, tasted, plump
with a plumbing of bundt light–
I wrap round nests around loud sentences–
I nestle with semblances and drowning–
Making water in the morning among thirsty
black cats, among flowering sludge–
It's rewarding–It's what you can do
in the meantime before it's fat

http://www.lewislacook.org/xanaxpop/





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No More Movements…

Lewis LaCook –>Poet-Programmer|||http://lewislacook.corporatepa.com/|||


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