the printed Od force mapped, saying, “stop dancing”

pattered scratches making their way to Denmark
like traveling gifts for an Od force of deceit,
children breaking their backs with rocks and garbage,
trading with the British all along the rights entitlements’ house,
laughing, trained robustous brood opens the State Hall eyes
tempting grace just to stay alive in the imagination.

reduced to grateful melodramatically catastrophical manners –
“stop dancing,” she says, “like a pigmentation in the sheets,
you must die once for your supper and second learn to stoically meet
the drafted storm industry flirting with rotation, placed tred,
like a staple wedging of the gifts of sacks and narratives.
just feel your feet on the tired iron. from there you park
the pursued sand, finding a frown now where bled clothing remarks.”
tempered holidays front a meal as it asks for currency thesis maps