dears i leave a note on your car window:

a mournful hollow in our arches we leave buckle to hisself, a right lake of a man he sinks.

the younger one is a step to filth and loss each day, i leave him a message cross the walls of our hungers belly each day, and when it fails to point him the right and narrow, i slap him on the buttock: twice hard.

my dear sallymander continues to be the pureness in the ache i see grow each day.

kramy is utter continuance itself a bitter sting less than it is a crushing twist.
my bones convulse and krutter like a slipping jade between teeth and a chipped inbone on highway. she will never wound me as i will never let this be.

despite eyeward shocks into my own gums i feel a sense of upwound.


dont you dare write us back, i'll move. i swear.
only,
'snc.