Floating around on credit, on a cloud of laters.
That dollar store on feral-land calm. Dollop stones curl backward in their shells. Mud husks burp carbon. Floating round waiting sighs in possible cloud scale. Some bind, some burn.
A search is a temporary housing. Who knows what apart meant. I hear power cornering
A fever paved over
guards possibles on a float up to the afters
Together us off this lease.
I forget to where,
just together us out of this.
By Andrew K. Peterson.