Thirty-nine presidents make a conflagration when the likes of Bonnie and Clyde feed the flames. Apostles flared into twelve colossal tapers dripping over a
Evening time sirens chime & recede somewhere in the city & fires elsewhere request attention & dozing on your daybed I can only imagine
I It was our next-door neighbor lying on his tongue, an open eye staining the rug where a dime-sized pill sat trapped in its