Raiding Sculptures Writing My Proposal (Revised)

I had sculpture-square sophists horseshoes for nights bombing the tempted silence
in my own scared, scarfed silence, but assured reasoned like a drying canvas
over the candleberry stipend where rooms over steam jacket orchids and oligopoly windows,
never stalling under seigniorage weights like glowing asphalt glory and tired ham-stirrups

Today is the last day of my worn out existence, where stymied fish go to circle
and feathers come undone, tales of great indifference go ratting out my lower orbit
drifting, to call me out as defeated, grossly over-imagined and where scars rest with milk
hazard saints and weather balloons find a staddle marked equation finalized and drifting

Scullion memories where dance favored butter smooth cuts roll out the resistance
of curled mark time rafts out like pearls of Tuesday and broken chips make stallions
raise money for waist fed orphans like mothers of June and stale parties look forward to autumn,
today I have never know such a land, but I try to sink water, where there is nothing but the summer

Hazard making raincoats and festering lights in the darling scapegoats where autographs are certaint
raining here where jabroni sorts and rattles confusion and tides leave Wednesday alone, mayhem breaks
leaving rasa singing, never wrecked the tools of meager sun children like broken holidays, pottery,
like sailor weather and cross stitched rehearsal, measured feast mornings, writing my proposal