Doing this and that, further shredded by ribbons
I’m your inner child from before
the procedure of ambition
I ran the neighborhood on training wheels
Heavy rubberized pastel flowed from my bike tassels
Blues and greens that mean something different now
that my ear has aged
I live inside you where music fills
the empty space of my head
I mean shell
The winding shape of mathematical beauty found in all nature
I’m a kind of nature too
I wanted you to live more, said the clock’s chipped tooth
History is full of lost blue baubles, all priceless
is something ideological to think
Thus it should be thought frequently, because after all
Knowledge of the future is hell
When you heard that rumor about me
I wasn’t really there
I mean, I wasn’t really listening
Wanting something to come after eco-iconography
Long-forgotten sensations and needs
to just blurt themselves out
A herd of taxidermy to escape the museum’s basement
Mammals without names
Other such blasts from the past thanking god
nobody cares
