5 june

moon over easy and a slice of why toast -- most of the time we right our rhymes where we left them before, tangled up and sore on sour -- powering through the useless times then finding that's all there was left -- west of the sun and south of the sky there's an hourglass that's melting fast into the sea and we flee from the sights we can't handle and mango the fruit in pursuit of a simplified stride -- wide as the water and willing to wonder: how have all the gardens grown in the overthrown stadium of night eaten up by day