The World of Erosion, Section Six

6


bitter voice in the room of the fog with the Big Band vocalists. losing it myself, see the highest, highest renders, escape through the steels, calling fire from the dusk surface of seas,

the complex, famous faces, sexual crowding,

ships of we, mixing sex: mobilize these.
where the point was I? hurt on the floor, my back grinds when I twist, the vengeful
landscape, tender of flowers, she kicks, the door, kicks it in, I seem to recall the guilt,
shiny white teeth snapping off the gums,
the door the wood the glass the door

get your sweater the sunset is always

essential.

the spirit, behind the curtain, my best friend
was there I watched her pulling up her dress I
was four I fell down then

something of the talk of the flexible GINGKOS!
we tended the goat's eyes - Becca, Dora - (ghosts) as they healed from viral cattle tears, washing them when we're tired, washing off the last sweat from the last mountain...
dust
heat heave
lungs, gallons, one, hand, cup, lift, lip, white, stone, skin