My brother,

The energy of the planet,

Inexorably travels

toward a day of payment.

 

Skilled workers of androgyny and antimony

Mine mint mimeographs.

 

What is absent?

Is it the gift?

 

The powers that are

Cannot remember if fish are needed.

I am making a copy of five dollars,

five water pipes,

five needles.

 

The closure of weather

Leaves the continental castle confused.

Today is an apartment,

With five undisciplined disciples

Learning to make music from movement.

 

I am a mystic,

The visions of my ears divine.

I have the red envelope.

Inside,

A letter to short romantic desires.

Above,

My blinking search.

 

The watchman guards his watch.

The heavens crack.

Our teeth fill in the gaps.

During the summer,

shining in my mouth,

the mirror you use

when you delete your names,

hard as dreams.

You will disappear to deny it.

I write a thesis on sneakiness

And thieving.

 

Time of molded bread,

famine dance.

In the background,

a man,

little fire of love.

 

You open the windows to me,

but shut up all the doors,

comment on my perfect blood.

 

During our mutual culture,

your flashlight sprouts at a time

strained power goes out.

 

Guns

in front of my text.

A leading word from you,

a call from your clouds,

would flood me,

dry in the valleys

without you.

 

Eating smiles,

You leave your central home without thought.

You do not need shoes.

The world is bearing your hardships,

with broken kingdoms flapping in the wind.

 

Your heart considers me,

My high gloss weeping and homey pleading,

And donates your medicinal attention

elsewhere.