the right of every man 

to sick himself on the world

no rainbows in the low sky

and the water is feared

they resemble the rain

wind torn salt savaged

drinking and smoking

days into years there’s

nothing to confess fix it

if it works if it’s broken

hide it in the shadow

of the Golden Age

 

oh worthless acts of living

January was a death sentence

today it was warm

the sun reminded us

the conversation’s dull

but no one loves them like family

nothing upstairs is a waste of time

even if you can’t read

he fell and wanted more

even though it hurt

there is less

to this new

what they

had in mind

when books

burned

see who’s

scared

to go to bed

before

they’re

tired

 

love

lubEre

libEre

to please

 

la[ng]-

gwij,

-wij

 

hate

kEdos

care

fear

anger

injury