Only that.  In verse.  No long paragraphs and no conventional structure.

What’s tattooed on both forearms??

VERSE.  No prose.  So…

Here I fly, new throws, boat rowed.

15:39 and needed new modes.  From the stage, the theatre that for some reason refuses to halt, or breathe, so that needs to be me— Survivalist, my attention rise aside from this.

Not letting any narcissistic twit poison my poise and posture, position or page.

Tireless fire, wiring mine eyes higher, sky-bound I rise NOW.

Poem, ci-dessous (below)…

Untitled 1355

Change the shape

Angle, no name

Not that I know of or can draw now

Trees in the way, keep[ and move, no

Grievance or play, characters and echos

Door open air cold find a corner

The new delve, well, into a well, 

Pour another glass of have conversation

With a clown or tender

Bar empty, parked car

Time where it is, so

Lay