Saturday, December 29, 2007

bath at Joel's

sacked by visigoth locustshame
same subtle-evil tries to trip my style
stylusing shame on my stoneheart
hardly makes a dent

don't know why Jireh feeds me
forgets tresspast,
thwarts abaddons i courted,
unruts and leans me into grace's loom.

Spirited dust repents and is romanced;
Pentecosted frolic.
wet, i sing-dream...
and see.

Joel 2.23-28

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