By JD Nelson
Soon manner of a cow first boiling boy. It oily I camera.
Move the moon. I was wise in white and smarter than a napkin. Yes, a clone with insides.
Rass, the Denver cleaner. Too manrass is nothing. A farm with bright answer. The dream of hooks in pockets lined with Mars and noise. Hockey taking too long. Pocket of the mind of moon a random.
The book of hammers. The only sad line in Texas.
Halving a moon. Later: the moon is a sliding hand of the k—. The clean name, a possible pea. Oh, it was a drawback.
The dream of Crayola brown. Another fire, not unnatural. A planet of brains heavy with later. Hands were speaking – I couldn’t believe my feet. The plush wooden dime.
Skilled moss, the vowel number right with season. Uncaring tomorrow Earth? The natural order of something clean.
Aught um. As mooney is ark. A small ounce for mice.
Clutching at Straws 
i really dig the new prose-y rosey thingie, jd’sers. your stuff is the bee’s knees and the cat’s meow. 🙂 and, plus, add, you are awesomesauce. ❤
Agreed. And I’m happy to be one of the first to feature the prose. I think.
THANK YOU! ♥
yes,rass the denver cleaner sits in a prozier package.
he is surrounded by celestial talkatives.half a moon is
½zen.i like to drown in prosepoemstexts that have
forget or lost all their meaning.