How To Build A Dunk Machine

not expect a poem ideas wolf loose cough

That afternoon it rained hard.
-never-rains a lot in me that evening it rained
died. It rained
fear.
Time had lost its cause.
And I wanted to be in the beginning of the world,
wanted to make fire with two stones,
sleep between wild animals would not have
language
burn in the sun.

But here I am, language
hauls me convinces me great stories
with the most amazing tricks.
sometimes forces me to combine
and I assure you, is not simple:
be in the past or future
acts
do not even know if I lived or live.
And I do not talk about truth or falsehood
already went through that and did not get anywhere.
Everything is a trap.
not simple horse gallop on the floor. Drinking water
crystalline sound of a river.
Life is a random roulette lost its axis.
But the wind knows music and comes flying by dropping
just notes on a staff.
And it brings rain, and come other days

and no
or preterit tense
infamous or outlandish conjugates run over me.
In those days, nothing has both
me like two little letters that come together to say

to say No. If
course
would not be possible if I carry her
the seven little letters after my name.