365 B
365 B
honey mustard, and no honey for the house, slices of carefree pizza, and no money for blood. frost on the windshield, and the smoldering blouse, dear-life connections, stemming a flood.
a lead-footed slumber for pain in your chest, forgetfully yawning and american frontier. depression, a road in the desert southwest; i'm sorry, a windmill - i love you, a steer.