mum boy (working title)

writin new bits here and there/not committin
ever-transmittin ever-expressin/ventin, findin
pace i catch the wind n i soar on, saw me swoop in
snatch, and gut prey in a tree
bustin nuts up a tree n i fly on, on over them trees
n through them eagle-vision eye beads i see
with that heat mapping, the free wifi
the GPS – i’m an animal with like eleven senses
locked in by the suction cups, the drips, the hydropumps
mainframe reclinin’/
endless scrollin’ as a new feature in whatever
forever wading into some twisting void
/while imagined judging eyes compromise truth

b authentic


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s