From 1999, in Iowa.

Eyes
twitching in hardly 20
minutes. Sherlock-ing answers from
whyte-tiles. make mistakes? smoking
doesn’t solve my problems. Might
have been the cattlyst, an engine.
oxygen for glowing-embers. { damn
you hobble } impatience will be my
cru-si-fix-shun. Re-assure-ants from
a good-friend wood have plucked
the doubt. Took a rain-check. It lay
there. Am I sleeping any better? No
po-sit-shun will snuff stirred-coal.
Hardly an hour and { i should’ve
stayed } never left ever { go } and now I
know why I shouldn’t, was a cold
engine. Now ouch to the touch. No
solace lays with staying and no
fault-lines lie with waiting. Now am
.waiting.4.the.call. and rep-i-ti-shus.
volunteer torments for an e-ternitee
in Dante’s allegory { wright me in }
only to lay but with stolen tonight.
Again.

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