, , ,

I walked past my own

winter and swam into

sunlight.  A floating

chronicle was waiting

for me and I drank

and jumped from it

until there was a 

flash in the sky

and voltaire came 

to me to bring me to

a cafe in black and white

so we walked around the

tables and chairs and

then came the matrix of

worry and brothers and their

phallus was big and beat us, but

with sharp and sweating faces

we washed away, back to

the book and I swallowed

salt water and was sick.