One hit opens your third eye.
Three hits closes your first two.
One hundred flowers bloomed
in June, & were pressed between
pages of soon-to-be-burned books.
The nine o’clock news said the next school-
shooting kill-count could amount to as high as one
hundred & twenty (two twin magazines on an AR-15), &
that it’s due to video-games’ consequence-free realities, but
I do just fine, this is fine; I have eighty-nine eleven-digit women’s
numbers— over three-thousand followers on tumblr— an armada of
B-52 bombers lobbying six six six sob stories— political allegories rich with
glistening pig pens, twelve hens, four hundred & twenty thousand cows, 88%
as many sows, three blind mice & a partridge in a courthouse tweeting If @Apple
won’t tell us who bit from the forbidden fruit, how will we know if it’s an isolated incident or #ISIS?
For just six cents a day you can save a life if you like my status I won’t kill myself or any African children.