May 23, 2011 § Leave a comment

By: AD Caroselli

At the moment I was stoned slow machina,
all breaks & forgivings— too tumbling grounded in a see
all scenario when squeal, supposedly, gave way
to waggle. His eyes see through glass to glass
& my stare hankered a shame or recognition
hidden at the seat of reflection. Plussed piss-ant
firing his arms to steady her wheel, a soothe
not meant for me, a glare to burn iris into sheaf.

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