Everything ends in a question mark from yes to as far as i know.

The curriculum of my compass

In a hodge podge of your cigarette speak licked vowels on the ledge of your lips.

Supple kisses 50 fold.

ism's and ia's throw up over the edge of the world.

Wampum fixes licking my velvet smooth of playgrounds and celestial charts reveal splendor at 2:40 in the afternoon

dash (-)ER each day.  In the faces you've created your claim to beauty and spiritual I.Q. and I the elder tree and yet a yes man of nothingness to himself & each other which is to say cast after effect in the scream of boxcars

enchant out to everything in a flash of periphery objects animate.

Conjure larks profound huffings, slackful sighs in our counting and I in the a.m.

Doing "pretty good" really means nothing @ all ,

with one last breath.....

Wishing.