Battery-operated soliloquy bequeaths

            lessons in bumptious authority

Shouted from the mouths of battery-operated politicians

Manderian king floats by, as some strange man

            photographs poets and disappears into the wall.

Vinyl grooves. Miles moves like an engorged Goyt

            but asks “Where are my socks?”

Ai is eating itself, while we all ...

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If God is real he has blue blood and wears a tin star
Miles and miles of special polish slips between glory and modesty

Blue is hot and hot is cool
Not precluding the toy tin star.
Titillation...or just tits? Best not to ask...

I went to the Rio Grande a King, came back a cowhand,
         best not to know.
Crafted chords stretch for miles. Make love to my soul.
         Best not to as...

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