I was ripping shit up in an AT-AT with lasers that shot from its "eyes"
i was riding an art school bus through san francisco. i got off on polk street, started to walk to market and hit the water instead. it was raining, i saw a familiar green jacket. she was writing about what a mess i'd made or what a mess i was or what a mess i am
i was leafing through dusty pages in an old box. "this is a tenth level seal, but most people only have fourth level eyes"
i concentrated hard to learn the technique anyway, i saw four red petals flutter and confused the root with the heart. even if my lizard desires are dressed up in clever dreams, i feel dirtier than a politician now.