Acid bark of petroleum too waste imagine never overhanging the city snake colossal hiss kisses armed icon retching sky too on feasting dawn i at the heart regret ever in this sour game the chaplain’s ten point star strewn too scenes too entertain too stretch too reflex too glacier too gamble too gone tossed too faithful.
god is an alligator white dunce cap common supernatural they are kind of fragile wicked mother i said i don’t know you reveal your in cantatory power vanishes soon of dawn alligator called maeve anything is yours big smile looking at leaves going around your big breath rattling every baby born after june 07 confused about cost and course are you wind wisened carried from child to child in red eyes we haven’t slept for weeks drink some of this we need to talk blockchain saprophyte you imagine not wanting to die at cost suddenly his girl friend her cadillac mania smoldering munitions return from orbit burn bump and birthright debased marlboro of denial indifferent save a dream david shields trashes my bike the hourlies and the salary men hide like armor ed doors between you and i and me confusing memory with money untold nights buzzing spent the gin flower in my heart explodes killing myself there’s nothing i want more than desire be alive 🍼 see my alligator grow up i was 14 or 15 didn’t know anything in lieu of replication error chomped a personality by liquor light 🥃 and it worked at immense cost 20 years pry open my skull 💀 exorcise the inadequate physical ruins of love 🫀 collapsed by mid-morning one suddenly recognizes at immense cost the crushing power of Their jaw 🐊
for mouths. remember the taste of the burning dollar bill, the mossy ember. the inhale. meant it differently than the other, but they were both beautiful men with spouts one poet said, and then as if in response: charnel house, said another. one search from time to time. in the dark off-ness, what does one find? charnel house it was somehow meditation. felt nothing searched. still search. we still die. later, on holly street, i used my hands to break plates against the wall and why not others were doing it and if a man can — again, why not? and i did not in relation to every man — an impossible task. when i was thirteen i did a thing because that makes them special. i of course mean me, but think about my self state of things the big ones derivative in their not caring much about anything; i interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to wonder about the current
thoughtless deference to free men swimming by who mostly don’t—though sometimes must— respect the point of exclamation! / part and not part
[sirens wail] [she moans] bean can and bottle top; variable dimensions are we talking about the made-thing or the making-thing drifts into reverie
bamoun duala ewondo gunpowder igbo kikongo lingala yoruba sango twi
both; i am the rooftop bar i am the school of fish basking on the sidewalk; red neon no tricks; implicated lion; times square
i needed a title so i stole one
i needed an image so i stole one
i needed a poem so i stole one
words phrases and acronyms we know ied compression of language tetric choices lean against acid blonde miniskirt robed in telephone pole we imagine dirt lipped centrifuge hands connected behind cross-shaped crane scrapes human tissue cloudless sky
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“I wake up from sleep. And I fall asleep again! / From serving an era. To betraying a different era. I recite. / I will keep paying 150 yen to buy your smiling face.” Terayama Shūji
but only therapists remain
and projected to have
no metaphors i am thinking
the impossibly large brick school building
the phone call and days ago
holding no metaphors
i am thinking about what i asked her
in first grade the therapist holds
the fragile invulnerable dictionary
spasms outside the hand and apologizing
about the boy i was
how my motherapist and days ago
holding spasms
outside this thinking exercise writing about
the fragile invulnerable world
about the boy
the impossibly large therapist
projected toward me
dazzle in bayonne
them i
spot the battleship a
brave
thing in me
but
better in college
baionnettebayonne
diminutive bayon
i am a
human who
sits unlike a trough
purchased long at
the
academic front leaking
a long narrow open container
for animals
to eat or drink
out of
control
frightens
thought
thread-eye
rarely painted red