o invasor

Someone is always
on the other side of the door, add barricades, add flashing yellow lights (so quiet and alone at a construction site, winking out to ET somewhere in a battered cosmos, genocide removes the need, and the knees from jeans disappear.

mounds of Wangler in a 70s plus size notion that youth can rule the world.
waiting is leglong
some is always one

but better to battle than bitter,
on the under side of the water I am Mir, floating without aim and afixed to a background that no longer remedies my insides, pettycoats are as trivial clothes; renew person on other side of door, they come into pencil, ink, color, smudge, animate.

one is always some

E-squared would sterling wrath the doorways to more ways than once, an erudite in slippers, sans pipe filters
bargain basement girls and their argyle miles, thick rimmed glass through which glance overt sexuality
the god i love seventies movies.