Outbound take operator affixes googly-eye to witchy film,
and, in so doing, codifies the practice. A certain urgency
inherent in the very idea of attack shorts. You have to see it,
nine-yard copper stimulates the finance dimension of field.
Work tap, a wretched feeling in the coma-dome, absolute
no-boundary clause catches you in. This sharpened meat.
This altitude. A groaning, twisting child-brains and
reworking them into canvas or something snap-like.
Sharp again. Dusted hummer. Osiris leaning windward.
You're left with a handful of tokens, enameled awards,
something to fit inside your buttonhole.

This mountain,
slung,
forget evidence,

flags, signals.
This bounded
rock.

Dappled fat,
ache-corners,
you said

into the phone,
as counting

over