Story

Revolution plaything of generations the full circle not to begin not end begin to end again at the very beginning also the end like ending crowded buses with fingersnap timing without separate faces to show but forever the sheep the sheep ever crumbling peripheries of unknown abyss loveless lickings of carnal skin foreskin deep drilling at a slight angle the single spurt of black blood bloodspit my whitedove plastic heaven heaving heavy hovercrafts hummers hamburgers haute couture halloween humbugs sky scraping ante chambers lemonspray mist then I must see your pink in between the long stocking hours if rain must come through and through forever into the single eternal arching of your spine scraping cloudheads.
Still black water
Here we float
In uniform and backs to the sky
Side by side

(You could be my lover, but you had a gun)