MISHEARING MY INNER RESOURCES
To know yourself in the spectrums,
as an individual in sync
You must become radical-
ly trustworthy We are guests
In everyone's outlet mall (traffic in the halls or none)
You are left alone
In a mind field bleached with wagging lilies
(mazing to no end) You are, sometimes
A reaction to environment And this performance
I promise is not for life!
Like the bleak flesh and yearn we are
(some of us run)
Out of options before the cutting-
board—In your own
Dream, I imagine (as)
a flash of marble blue seems you search
For what makes you up and I keep at
the personal lyric
Not with a love for, but with a flinging out
from my yuck! I
Don't care for I—Want a communal song
spilling into the wild
October fields This juvenile heart in spring feeling dumb,
I am hunting
For want You cannot contain the line of why
One should want I, I, I running through
(The dead wet grass)
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ONE THING CAPITALISM TAUGHT ME
was that i was born in Sapporo ('sup/olo)
then my father with individual will took we
to a-me-ri-ka, then recession 1, 2, a near 3rd hit
all financial recoveries are white lies! go ahead you can take me
to the river, wash me in the water i just have no romantic love or affair
with my citizenships my grandfather says never marry
beyond a border like your mother today just let me be
(free of you) America! It's not all of me who has an oath to be other
yet without my mother's mother's emptied cache
we would have been under the bridge, mother reminds me
you know with the golden gate red "eito~ B(u)road(o)way desho"
near The Pearl waterfront, the Willamette River her bluest realist joke
my mother as grandmother as rescue as nation as collective will echo pride
my home is as lineage and failure as working to chum currency
a life working under old money she tells it all poppy
we were more Talking Head new wave yoohooing
i'm on Hawthorne now instead, catch me in a Tokyo young boy
look all these damn yt hipster anarchists hanging their
converse up switching to black PF flyers or martins collectively
would anyone know if i moshed in Dead P★p Stars aesthetic
i'm so damn far from any home always, i am so star
and we are so stardust i'm looking at every safety net
dancing, dancing kāsan, i'm so sorry i'm a poet
I, I, I— you'll be working until you die
TYPO
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