can't wrinkle a webpage

so much fuck the world; so much.

rocks and literal rocks,
What is it that is not children playing?
When the radio-dial in grimmest tones informs me of the funeral I have missed,
because of oversleeping again? Second time this week.
Loaded barges gray with age who lug impossible cargo
'gainst the current sage and surge--time surges too, with haphazard sickle and scythe--
while the unthinking green children make sweet indentation in the hilly grass,
watch them barges wheels about in the sky and seem OH GREAT TUNEFUL WORK,
Huck and berrybush all fused in such delight in swarming Mississippi jungle.

Where is the creeks that go? Where is the creeks that run to, parched, phantom?
My address to you is simile; is like them pyramid cloister, cloister dry rot,
cloistered sandstorm brown, like them sandstone slavehands, penhand rather.
Writ, tossed with the afterbirth in the bin; binned, rubbish, that's writ a shade,
a stream a shade to a-c-compose.
Rotted faithless and a hull pitiless for none, to who none spread when eyed.
Whores eyed. great great humdrum, great turning unending space association
too cold for wolves , dipping , boughs drip , or smell of olive , baking ,
too cold and deep for mothers and any love at all.