1672

TOOTHPASTE KIDS SUNBURN

I tell you I will not make any more raids,
The elusive going-elsewhere motherboard

An electrical sound marking stretches
Afternoon is carving into the wood of us,

That's our modern way of saline allegory --
To make gods of times of day. I won't

Cooperate with this love that steals itself
Into a brand name, preferring to abandon

Like feathers or a rocket stage the moves
Traffic up till now couldn't touch. I will be

That warm breath dying on the neck,
The only chain they couldn't save in the fire

Everybody but the Buddha called a day
At the beach, but was really a burning home.