on balance in the road on a field maneuver

Assemblypersons that did not provoke the fire in the restroom stall
the assistants to the maître d’ did incline the wedding into the bathroom
“it just happened,” God stanced, with a coy smile a file on vacuum energy
like stationed patrimony that witnesses dozens of bathroom weddings every hour
we did not want to do this, but we tried to call it into a declined affair

it felt like a purge, like a failed state in the midst of a standing officer in the commissary
shopping for crab legs and neighborly appetizers next to the beer aisle ailing in shame
cosmic doorways in wards for the misgiving, that is what God says, “misgivings about me,
my family, my door’s name, and my daughter, you will not come to my house that way,
so shall we all depart.” and that is the message of the evening,
following the night of the fire in the bathroom wedding
a path to victory for the assistants for the assembleypersons getting high on stage

on balance in the road on a field maneuver, rowing to the science of a troubled handling vocation
where angels throw away tire irons and get in trouble supplying the masses with stock brigades