It's like:
   
      the moment
      they call it

   POETRY

that bums me
    out, bro,
    and I don't
    want any part of
    it.

Restless fucking heart.

Is there a lord to rest it in or

at least an equivalent?

Does anyone know?

There's only dry as fuck brush

to burn all summer, no moist trees

to let the season stick in.

PRAYER 1

  Limitless breath,

     reach into the lungs 

The lungs of God.

Did you lube the

    car wash?

You forgot to lube

the car wash.

Good deeds

left undone.

And now the

bearded man

(turned unbearded)

is going to be sad.

But of course no one could be

trusted to remember.

You remembered 

but you didn't

understand.