anagram me

after midnight nobody sleeps in reykjavik

or is supposed soul-sober


not even the ocean



you drink the longest nights away



the ocean's immense shit

talking too much. not the dead



gone. it's in other people. you gotta lark on with death. i do. i do.




it anagrams on the street fate people sometimes

it's called a city

or death. where a lark

was hung up by



its celebrated tongue.




oh. another poety thing. i forgot to say





their luminous vomit. everyone is a kid

here even if they are ninety

they know it's a kid dying.




sheep move through their icy residency.




they are not being difficult. you are.





it's night and hey look everyone dead is severely so alike

the night reaches out with a noel.

noel hotel bars.



that freaks the long manicured me out.



the night and susan died young. everyone was severely susan and was a severely drunk one. she was too. but singer songwriter artist she just stopped and hey look they are not talking. reached out so alike. and with this long thing if you type manicured finger. touched leona naess backwards touched it to my what do you call forehead. and everything got. susan a night was beautiful.

she is. they're right. febrile state my noel.



that freaks a strange woman in me out.



she does.


but the bicycle life is strange.



hung up by and with her my friend.




never to dry.


oh horrors. the calamity.




i run towards the sheep.




the aristocracy.




the sheep.