You lives, and sure will lie heavy here,
the second floor, to the neighboring side.
The light seeks and darks, travels the travelers.
After a few dark beers and the writer (a man working)
bears weight off into his own.
This is not how humans race or fight. Not like this.
This is a man I’m watching, both lost and cruel, could walk and still
tragics all the time, both losts and walk and still, and still
come around and show the photo of the 60-pound catfish,
must be where his daughter is, with three men,
to carry out with him, to carry out the fish on the holiday.
I was sitting with a man, men at pain, for his pension,
to follow tragic, a single department university, with the words I am old.
I am watching because this man both losts and walks,
and still comes around, still tragics all, and still comes around
and shows catfish photos. It’s a daughter. My head’s with him,
my head with three men, to carry out a fish on a holiday
with men in county.
His daughter is a catfish, 60 pounds, with three men
to carry out the daughter. Three men in county clothes,
and three to carry out a fish. My man, head with three men
to carry out a fish in a bottle. A writer/wet writers
still filled with wets, load/carry in the water out a fish.
I’m sick. This is not as human as a race or a fight,
not for this man both losts and cruel, could walk and still,
both losts and…and walks and still ‘tragics,’ and
still comes around, photos of 60-pound catfish,
must be when his daughter was in Thebes with three men
of the wood to carry at it.
You lives, and sure will die heavy here. Just do it.
Just like that. The light seeks and darks, travels the travelers.
The writer not a writer, a man working, bears weight off
into his own. It’s life that beats to leave a rock,
to leave a rock that won’t carry in the water.