swiveling the waist

Are you wearing shorts today? It’s degenerate but preferable to wearing nothing on the iceberg where your capacity to carry things diminishes with each helicopter flown by. The woman on the ground sighs when she wastes away. It’s the nature of the beast to stink and sink, she clarifies. Hoard your belongings to sink you quicker, wrote the one devil on a pirate ship in the core of earth. He wears shorts, true. He wears patients when they’re dead of faith. He wears complacence on
Sundays, like a riverbank. Spot the necklace, learn to swim again, smoke your druthers done.