hot wet entrails of clairvoyant goats is sliding beneath you a rusting church chained shut
the pinched sky away where the lake ends waking a king in the broken alleys around this anxiety she projects plunges down dry woody stairs boarded-up department store windows
my isolation says rising out of serene residue
the echo slowly consumed with you says disenchantment is a prelude to quenching a knot of code
the sun’s dodge and burn on an empty playground says your spine tastes slipping down your throat after your blue cars are gone tossing empty pizza boxes into blackness a bitten blonde engrossed in her phone
this soaked moon says all her dead lovers linger in her throat
a thunder in the corners of the sky spilled across her marbles the collapsed trees in those vacant blocks
these loose signs says gorgeous things gas across streetlight pavement around the late flooded light of anxious houses escapes him and lingers patches of spiderwebs nested in hedges
the ways the dead affect the weather says ribbons of dogs barking
an alley choked with thick brush woke up trembling a passage of moonfrosted cars
their pale faces sending loving-kindness to all the abrupt noises with stalks of wind-brushed reeds enacting soma escapes him and lingers eager gray kitten
the dead and their erasures convolving slantwise in her hand
I’m in love with the elephants here because they fulfill gravity’s promise. It’s hilarious when you brush their trunks.
Kin-kissing is forbidden in this brash town; you have to stand straight with your arms at your sides.
I’m waiting for the moon to rise, standing shiverless like a salt sheath.
Suspended, his days hung before him like a full clothesline during a rainstorm.
Whenever I get frustrated, I spin around in circles. I wear a hole.
You can walk through walls all day long, and never feel like you’re properly in a room.
The screaming of the disco moon was a nice touch.
She says, I think in pictures and it’s hard for me to remember words. I fill all the ice cube trays at once.
Sunny afternoons pull a froth of talking taut around green lawns. I was eating yellow light, blue light, the frail rainbow’d bubbles of thought’s push. A dog somewhere else strobes across cracked streets.
Newly-wakened clouds entwining with soiled-sullen blossoming. You could be so with velocity my cold fingers shuffle pulse and a whorish fullness. Rubbed loose.