befuddled we unravel inside the radio galaxy

with its orbit composed and competing in the lottery

sewing to our slope a languid love handles

turning timer and wont void of a true name

our flippant tip-offs and postures these lulls in the end

on cheerless innuendo

an outside innuendo

from the hallowed gird of the radio galaxy

in its resonance unconditional no end

no soul to hold within our lottery

humming dreaming splintering darning into handles

weaves out on your basket another name

how the weight of the mind pulls our grip off the handles

the tongue burnt in blazing innuendo

with no falter the mouth of the name

opens as it churns into a radio galaxy

inside thinner throat to our stomach the lottery

inside gone dark chateau with no end

outside their pall afternoons toward no end

we hold on to the handles

they bare our belly for the lottery

on reason and innuendo

the harangue of hell rumbles around the radio galaxy

within our draw we find their name

ocean and earth drawn name

within our end

inside a cold bright radio galaxy

the lashing that love handles

of scrupulous twisting innuendo

now our umbilical lottery

is their umbilical lottery

now draughts the fluid name

from our innuendo

we tryst in this lashing end

grabbing the bull-whip handles

with our one quick snap the radio galaxy

within a radio galaxy the stomach of our lottery

as the fire burns off the handles we have the name

with our end our innuendo

Steve Noettl