A left margin watches the sea floor approach

It takes 30 million years

It is the first lover

More saints for Augustine's mother

A girl in red shorts shakes Kafka's

The Trial free of some sand

A left margin watches the watcher from Dover

After the twentieth century these cliffs

Looked like ribbons on braids or dreads

A dream had come right over

With a sort of severe leakage

Ah love let us be true to one another

Went down to the ferris wheel

God's Rolodex

There were neon spikes around everyone

Like the Virgin's spikes

Old punk's mohawk Evidence of inner fire

Rode throwing words off Red current Light swearing

Ah love The century

Had become a little drippy at the end

We're still growing but the stitches hurt Let us be

True to one another for the world

Easy on the myths now

Make it up Sleep well