About

"The two of us were children and as children we were simple and complicated and we didn't get tangled up in words."

Leftist, radical politics, shitty poetry, some poopy poop, New Orleans, Latin American shit, things that make my booty bounce.

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A throne of beads, colored in seeds.
A proud spirit, swords sweeping therein.
Rotting in regalia, fingers crossing to
be a child again.

Fables burning in furnaces, angles too proud
for His curses.
Weeping, twisting, rebuilding,
a veil whose darkness rejoices.

“He oído, la itinerancia en los campos de ferviente.”

A belief with two functions, the
suffering and his death,
bumbling against titans.
The resurrection comes twice,
ghosts withered, hence insurrection.

A contradiction, misdirection,
salvation proving the salvaging
serpent. Wincing when smiling.