they told my cousin go to jail – he didn’t want to go !
he felt downright messianic , or normal
on this perfect day of disease
we pulled up on him at the dice game and cheesed
last pic for now , last kiss
the steps up to heaven were sweating with ideas
about the arrangement of society
some mean lives in this hot century
of sugar and corn
this blue century of circluded aspirations
I was unwell , obviously wrong
bringing butter for the baby , music for the baby
and my brother glowered in the fog , darkened in the fog
jail I said and he said good !
his face was so grim , such an individual citizen
the furrow of his face overtook the sweetness of his face
I’d seen it once before
he looked like a diamond being beaten
a child , a diamond
beat beat beating
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