Slow the City feels Be Low the End of Men to know.



Nativity in
The City,
This Home wherein countrybumpkin outside-steps, occasionally
and hard the terrain good for Old Edsels and PoliceCruisers, maybe
too a stolen U-Haul of broken deals and committed crimes. . .
<which re minds that this breaks the law as lyric loses in lex talionis
good as laughing judges and landlord gyps will bear evictions
all those doublecross-tions on women--
how do I include here?--
who now in tents and down a block now closer
to the River Belle Riviere O Hi O
take root in the pavement the always cracks permit, Girls,
CAMPING where once me&Ye camped CRAMPT in
Growing Womb.>
<which re minds me that I as well am taking root
as from the spore not the Seed indeed She's have,
Baby! Borne born not even close to Bethlehem
to beget birth not Thine Eve's but my notion
this creation, the illusory womb an I'mFem.>
. . .We grow from Rocks, Girls, we are busting rox
the hard on softened of a sex I 'magine too
ThisAfterlifeBeyondTheScrew
that manufactured me, and made You too That
@ Dayspring we Dandelions Equinoctally concretelyhard cracked-wise grew
yes AfterScrew, Baby!, fancily
from hard of underneath the pavement breached
yet Creation NationSalvation de spite
cops and killers who Pop Us Up
in the End begin SoftFeminine BirthRight rites.
Slow the City feels Be Low

the End of Men to know.

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