Palmyst’ry, No. 1

Yeah, what if I say: you want the summer break from the beginning of spring, when you know very well that autumn is coming next week to get our new hair colored like Colored Glass is your name and is a book we published in our blog posts? Meanwhile, here is the one that is free—and here we are writing about our new fridge, forget that our next door is open for a couple of days and we will be back in nervous.

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Dear Valdosta Glam Company

Dear Valdosta Glam Company,
I am writing to thank you for the response response in a poem form & my free Bag for Radicals!-—Valdosta Radicals—like nobody but the locked-up victims of felony selling of suitcases. For him, she sold bond bonds, was trafficking in actions dubious, services extra-ordinary—boring, really, according to said pimp, said you. It’s a freak felony already. Most victims consider Valdosta Glam the where, not the response in every hawrt that lobs throbs around the bases warming up for the seventh Seven.

He yodels as if the real Penny might lock him, full-nelson. Wise was she when arrested by a slim narcotic-enlightened radical ripe in the sand. O delight in the dry dry sand & all praise-by-astonishment & other covetous beliefs in all the world, the true people resigned joyfully to every miracle promised by our son & the white uncle unclean.

You the sign of hearts, sweet Val, Valdosta Glam. Besides and foretold, you sing of cicadas, taxes, wigs, cars, carts, cups, and good cheap April ahead! With you mouths thick as night where you faces appear: the wiry grins, the &-there-are-no-rules-for-what-happens-next kind of thing.

Yeah, she knows what happened to the guy. He got work, five-an-hour gigs, drooping and heartsaucy, his eyelids figure-eight straight to the news ahead.

He telephones the fatigue,
the lips,
the fingers,
the work,
& the world.

So thank you again Valdosta Glam Company,
we remains love yours & truly

Courtesy of Patrick Santos-Dumont

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notes on the silence

notes on the silence
who among us will denounce the silence
call us all to see it for what it is
break it in order to admit hot-doggedly
what is obvious to all who ask

what minister of true will do us a fervor
& preach to us—no bullshit—us children asleep

will the prophet patiently hold his breath
or hers no longer
& dance real words
under glitter-balls twisting
@ the club valdosta

oh we know the harrowing must be done
the words are eager to be eaten
for to replace old silent habits

the first among them being
your bitter suckling of fear
as if it were your lover’s thumb
the locus where you only imagine
a consoling deliverance to valdosta

you say you want to
stand on a box & cry
for help if nothing else

me, I say lots of good that will do
the true is coming anyway
so you better know now
how the silence must be broken

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