More junk for my collection

Because I've been traveling these are what I wrote on my ticket stub:

I traced the line of his voice to off

And the plane set turbulence and I am retured to structures of pretty girls being first and boys with rollex watches telling the wives at home the time to be proper and the time to dirty in the bed

They say this is your future

Still frame pictures

Plane sellouts of home through the clouds

The closest to the birds we’ll be

White snow heavens

From above our homes are grids of life lines rarely observed by the palmist

The future we anticipate before leaving the plane

Is plaine the world marbled into networks of the sixth degree

Of magazine the beautiful people

Random lines from poems I've been reading:

Hierarchic privacy

eyesores facing her shore

jolt

jar

junk

sigh still

Fierce, fireless mind,

I am finished with wax flowers

After loving you so much, can I forget you for eternity, and have no other choice?

color of the gas flame turned as low as possible.

smell it turning to gas;

your wrist would ache immediately

cold dark deep and absolutely clear,

feed their dirty

glistening torsos

bargains in wristwatches

It is easy to be beautiful; it is difficult to appear so.I admire you, beloved, for the trap you've set. It's like a final chapter no one reads because the plot is over.

I look at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world

Stones like first words: only begin, and the rest will follow

southerly

They had changed. They had been changed.