Synthesize yourself

I'm finally insane, he thought. What freedom. Hellbent, hell kneeled and gallant, mangy hello meant well and did even

   better at itself to mutter well that's a fine how-do-you-do. Superstition stemming from too much leisure so had a few illegitimate children and a weary sense of duty on the rim of exile, exhilaration. Such style it still seems famous of him, yellow blindin dame and fame's fine and an inside game with no simile to reduce it to freedom again. But I loved the man more than the manner/ plain, went pedantic and mugged myself for the prize I had already won or blamed, enacting that mild brand of disbelief like first snow to last country. Guilt made him hungry and gregarious. Which was an outrage. Which I cherished with my entire absence so we could disagree on cue. I wonder what it feels like/ my style is changing. Delightedly. Apache pain. Before I fell for fathers and now my faith is clogged with them merciless motherfukers who went sane and source, and now. The black man who re-invented Slavery as a club and then a concert series, never imagined all the women in labor behind the bar, in the the taxi on the way to the bathtub and the natural way back to the far away way we were

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Some violently passive fake the radio acts even when it's off. Since when did change become a threat. Since when did music