Unaware Prayer

by Alison Livingston

I will wear my guilty suit
And share this lane
If I
By word of mouth
May ally with the decade
In freakish, flamboyant fame
Give me

I will be God's paragrapher
Lewdly akimbo, a money-shirt
Walk on murk, pop and strain
Whatever, whatever you want
Give me

Ram down this fool dress
Anything you can find
I will fill my brain with your thought
And self-examine not
Give me

Just part smoothly
Out of my way to onward
And hey, if we can, let's fall
In copyright at first sight
That's the way of they!
Give me

My name, my eman. Either, or not.
Call me what you want
Printed nightmares, moving rubbish
Dance that futile mile
Become the style
I am never fully rendered
Give me

I have arranged all my backyard blinks
My marching uniforms, oh happy uniforms
I have coaxed you gently
and so
Flood equally about me
For I am a bad sale

In your brief shade I regard
How you carried a diplomatic index of
Unnecessary Chance
When I first read your name
And sat funnily as voltage worried over
Meek ol' bones
And months, you puttered around this
criminally burning amateur
Embarking on a debut
You saw me, didn't you?
You knew.

Flush up, muster up
Set your skew-eyed smack
at home no longer
Firm up, Bird
Slow frequencies don't become anything
And I?
Oh I?
A bloodguilty twerp
A stick in the spine
a bad sale.

Rope down and awry
As grave laughter dribbles on your porch steps
For I am a bad sale
A coffin hitch on paper
Industrial strength and purple-tinted
Rope down and awry
So I can arouse a guilty rest
And retread that tragic second
When it all blashed into change
And old-fashioned fuss
When they knew about this anonymous us
And you
with sense and good passion

Cracked ugly