Addictive Becomes Origin

this word must have more

it wants what it wants done
bored with letters again
the air between together

look it up look straight up

the sun moves your eye
out of the way dig in layers
come across a ring on tape

of all the faces in the room

the tomb typo nearly
shifting these mutable grains
the lizard had a dream of ink

it must go on for years

a boy undiscovered in work
done without words to cloud
green scale above the worlds

what you know and you

don’t get joined to these
ten letters to a girl in green
the missing man was seen there

the man in the bed speaks

for himself the silence reins
in 1969 the springs are bled
a story called when you were out

dogs play would’ve should’ve

border guards hear burlap
they’ve paid for feathers
the paper hasn’t any following

in these parts no form

we knew one day not long
would fail to hold light
until the earth moved an inch

that it never worked

mostly lined up to keep time
anyone can learn how high
and this work make a ditch

sometimes if you’re different

once you’re asked to play again
the same impossible minuet
of your delicate terrors

they held the wood above

to take the color up to white
not to have to learn the stake
these were parts in the way

a little goes on far too much

this one went white as part
of a set of something which ran
red through the streets of the ear

if I keep my hand just so

he will call himself the next big
and a second of important loss
might think itself a keepsake

who uttered the noise

a box we used to have in space
it may be a year or clear case
enough is too many too white

he knows what we have to miss