Here’s what I have

Here’s what I have:

an eye on the burgeoning death of my soul

an’the rise of light, wings

<the sky blazoned with cellophane or electricity>

earth-scent like pink worms

ejaculating vomiting earth yes!

It’s the same, I can smell it but can’t find it

like you with your torch you show

how it looks like a small bundle of cloth,

or things bunched together.

There is no prize,

there is living without prizes,

our imaginary end

will come true.