Mine Own Ohms Resisteth Me

Deaths come to all good things who’ve weight.
In dreams you always have less

chronic sleep disorder issues. But can you be
sure the sugar isn’t slightly less

sweet? That slumber isn’t a trick of the foot
finding a planet to stand on less

the agent’s slice? Chaos as agent of buck teeth
in mags. The comb that has less

to say about the state of the hairdo than the hat
of a gent of meanness? Not less

significant the dais missing its inner windbreak
to protect your devices. Unless

you then arose and a wind agitated around you.
“This thy son, o lord”, worthless

without the word. The word goes amongst men
in the brilliance of the touchless

carwash. This world goes to the Unitarian Bank
of Commensurate Fits, merciless

as Ted Danson towering over a city of flyspecks.
260 days till literarily those less

fortunate read ant paste deposited here to mark
anyone named Mark. Much less

meeting the quotidian inroads of your grand mal.
Skip it? The panda, “Please, more?”