(redux)

 space monster that isbeats & heavy on the railingto confuse sudden energy, perhaps, a rosein a pot we found venicehimself only politedraw patterns on the window& there somewhere is the sameold jungle but with newly rewritten legislation& the moon fits easily into a coat pocketsmiled & your redundant slacksbutterflies may be offended by such claimsin the moonlight he approached the little log cabin thrown outfields intersecta remarkable claim, but possibly truewe have not heard from him since he declared that he is working on a dissertation on the art of chaos & how it relates to fishbut neither side could claim to know what actually had happenedwe had a corpse in a ditchsongs sung in the head or in the vicinityget us there, pronto, on the cord, immediately, without delay

 

_____Lars Palm lives with his lovely wife Petra, currently in Malmö. He’s the author of three books; road song for (Corrupt Press, 2011), chaos on/chaos off (obvious epiphanies press, 2012) & this thing just happened (Gradient books, 2014) as well as some chapbooks in print & online, most recently excuse my vandalism (The Red Ceilings Press, 2013). He blogs at mischievoice.