nerved, spotted not alone at the copy bag's lip.
your "last great mime" eyes watching faces go bald
through a ply of mucus or living gauze.
the way a glass of still water brings out...
strings out an entire night's sleep.
the ringing in your ears after locking a series of door.
when you feel friendless and are.
this sends a thin kitchen noise very pregnant throughout the house.
letting the few squeaking floor boards know
that they cannot but sleep through you.
a dream scream zilch to the woke.
wanting power not unlike that of a thermostat,
instead your one warm dot of wheat buckling down
to the 10,000 sours of time line indulgence.
a silent undeniable page break.
sure you swear you single out a single grain of sea
and keep track all the way to the shore.
trousers rolled to the diminish of pants utility,
flashing calf meat at the big water mom.
avoiding the wake and thief's dignity that's losing count.
saying "great" or six pounds eleven ounces
awaiting happy to the ribs of books frayed...
all that respect for never seeing all your blood displayed
outside your body at once.
all that ignoring of the fewer's golden properties.
skipping on the curse of will you help with pregnant
meanwhile tumors twinkling, twining through your seaweed center.
such bit part power over earth and anti-gravity.
cold editing the place machine to bits because you're this...
mediafetusmindmomowingstraightman coughing bird badly
and creacking broken english like a rock.
the caveman absolute...more red pant faced than garden goaled.
you can taste the astronaut in those nails...
suck on the dirt in edison's teeth...
blindly ejaculate his thousand helper rally..
be reminded your worm blossomed body feeds a smile rich mud.
what they do...is get an empty barrel filled with loosed puzzle pieces...
and a hollywood set fan...and blow them all over you.
i can't wait 'til i wake to the bit in this flick
where all crutches are kicked and my mother's forgived.
be it by therapist's sieve or one can crash to live.
i would rather not dive from a wire of bridge
if it's for me to heal by the 25th give
god forbid that this nose glass mustache to wig
is exposing a rib.
god forbid i'd live to see fifty
fat-fingered and fearless with something like kids.
trapping yourself in a solid fashion (negative)
before the sexual hinge.
your father honest and alimoniless in the thickest of glass blowing.
his squeezed teeth saying your mother's become disgusting.
she is...was secrets to the clubbed tongue of a jersey secretary...
oh you remember buried in the thin inner hand cells that refuse replacing,
'cause you won't bite into your warm arm
for fear of bursting the bulged obvious veins.
the same veins your heart seems so impatient with.
maybe your cuts so deep it makes a second mouth
more massive than your guilty average ten year old smart pumps glib...
maybe not...you're a harpless fear extra in the dust gather massive...
a muscle bound fossil swapping specs of flesh
for a rock thin slow future of snapping off into salt...
there's no harm done in the fruition of minerals...
the second great planting sink of your adult teeth.