When Through My Nostrils Water Displaces Breath

[emophobe77]

In Los Angeles in winter it pours rain on boy urchins, striations of fiber decompose, my body anchored by a mesh of words. The Sunday Times in my mouth doesn't make me newsworthy. All these boys and only island societies, none of us to repopulate the earth. I said it would end with me, bathed in chaos, on a payphone. When my mother left I told her

Comments

[gloompixie]

What a lovely image...