Deadpan Sight

You could see him over there; any one could do it.

The night creeping around the floor accelerates.

Speaking in tongues; the sun got up and dressed.

You can undo emails if you’re elastic enough.

Dropkick your aura, or flirt with your entrance to hell.

You could see him under the bridge if you had a ticket.

A flock of moss loosened up after a few drinks.

Dog whistles were given out at the rally; everyone winked.

The little I know about raves has sent me into the woods

along with a ball of sundresses and collections of famous soot.