E ch oes are little more than
a longing for constancy,
bitterness toward f o r w a r d movement.
Tresses SQUEAL soft refusals,
glittering like surgical blades.
Fuck the stucco.
Best allocate assets elsewhere.
Can fantasy flash into b e i n g?
Failed auditions aren't unique,
There has to be a better formula.
What is the sum of 11 and 10:
It's your turn! Move into the poem. Renovate it. Knock down its walls. Put your spin on it. Make it your own.