Hierophany

Index card.
Assyrian, Joseph the.

I guess that’s what’s meant
about someone from Syria,
or what used to be Syria.

My yellow more pure is
than commercial cake.
Summer watermelon,
two kinds of seeds of.
One will grow in me,
the other will grow
to my new life become.

Activists have already
to court taken this poem
so don’t worry so.

I am waking to wake up,
museum touring the.
Popping pills,
touching paint my
fingers bare with.

Still wet it’s hoping.

This entry posted by J Rand : 22:21