There is a penguin, under the
lids of my eyes.
shivering with the penguins
if I continued watching the
necklace glares
strangling my changing accents
I would never live to see
the Chinese New Year.
The 30's had lots of plants
the art galleries accelerating
and I will die emptiness
in the lonely fields
Driving on the left side of the road
wearing sun glasses.
Are the South African beaches
I hope so-
out of sand
I am gone now
electrically surfing
of digital tattoos,
the white doves overtook me
ghost.