AMERICAN GOTH

i baked
i robot
my wires rr fried
i want you to pretend you are
Abraham Lincoln's son
cut my neck with your beautiful beautes
i can bleed poems
or jumbled hello this is justin again's
across the mirror
i am joking
my thudder away away
far into the bay
a real dinger
my foulpole smile
aim a rocketship into my beautiful face
beautiful or beautiful or how can i tell you
the way you wave
a grain field only loves the wind
my veins don't have much dirt in them
i stopped growing
tall
but the fruit returns for now
it makes great juice
the rest of the tree
might be useful
as a totem tall with a kick ass eagle on top
call me MR.
or call me and i answer
or darling
can you tuck your head under my chin
and listen