Bedbugs LXXVII

Bedbugs LXXVII


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Attacking me in order to take the focus off yourselves.
Can't spell God right even with a mile long devotion. Why
spine showing through your shirt should entail a greater risk
than being upfront and truly looking in the goddamn mirror;
her anger's always fear that the same song brought on
again and again; tell nausea every afternoon fighting against
the threat of loss, age, and being like the rest.
Find what you sought tomorrow and collaborate with the
best of them gathered out there in the forest waiting
for the idea that fixes everything. Tell the others
no secret to what I do really, many shouted that
while being condemned. Clarity slowly returns
as does purpose, whether you want it to or not.
Always frightening in a manner of speaking.



Next week's seven phrases/groups of words:


-the pretty one got over him
-sundown sooner than expected
-brighter out west than here
-talkative, I think she's not
-make me wish for it
-seventeen of them waiting in the field
-who is that in the house?

-Adam