Drift

Something spilt, oft bed,
its pleins arts, then shifts~
so be near~

something like a line drifts
sleep, unrecalled
by morning

where a dollar bracelet sits
the desk, unwinds in cat's wisk,
his peach paws~

is that it, his scrapes?
Apart the lesser
prose protest, poor, but

Yes. Don't tell, it said.
Answers must
be unwist and

for shame, the clot
noise you pose.
It's best

to leave yeast aside
and sugar, dwindle,
make it mix more

a grove, citrus,
tart and dark,
heated, breadish.

Flash~the globe
clusters, skirts the thin
air veil, pierced~

Only trash we'd shoot
sunward, add loot, cash.
Mendicants'll

rise up, take the saltine
hands.

With tinned fish, it's good.
Lip-lipped timing
rips, gloats~fine!

Let them figure, by sight
train meat for~
meat.

Rounded the corner, now.
Backways are softly lit,
but brittle

they burn up the won luster. Libraries
have suffered this
old decoy~

to whit, fire destroyed,
paper, vellum, papyrus,
jarred hidden, (writ).

Corpses list, smoke wells
ear tight, prove revelry's
to dig.

It's rough, the bully bean, yet
tug as might allows~

For it's well cuffed, lung slept,
prepardoned for manliness~
the hair, it fits!

Hysteric, all uncombed
the bearded gallow lops
lopsided love.

Call it swill, or plush,
but relish muster for a
twin~organ, elite,

perse close on a
silly rim, lip-buff the
sticking out

word.