XVI.Two of these things I cannot live withoutlive without anticipationlive without the expected or the unexpectedlive without a long time leftlive without lovelive without my heart is brokenlive without my homelive without lost timelive without the wit of the old queerslive without wine or Russian vodkalive without affordable tobaccolive

“Okay, now I angry dog. Where a snake looks? Look my eyes. His will in him eyes. Okay, I punch your face. Punching your face! No, no, okay, better, good. Vai! Loose hip. Don’t previewing, take what he offering you. Okay. Slip and turn, hooks in. Espalha frango, break

XXV.I wrotethe childrenthe vulnerableshitting fucking eatingtwo of these you do not tend to do in groupsI write my hands crythe earththe reversal of the earthpity for the poetfor the poet is of praisefor the praise of shefor her understandingawful understandingI wrote that truth should stand stillfor she is full

“All the things you dream of: do them now, while your enemies are reeling, trying to figure out their next angle of attack. There won’t ever be less repression, less police and private security, less drones and dogs. I personally regret not pushing harder before our possibilities shifted, not

XXIV.on a rough crossing of Lake BaikalI am inside a water dropleton the glass of my actual ferryfollowing in its saltwater course itsodddistorted horizonon a rough crossing of Lake BaikalI can’t wait to tell you simpler thingshow the wind is gone round to the Eastbringing cooler air anda