My fusion-felt
Atmosphere,
Is heavy handed

But I'm just-
Pedestrian salt,
And licorice findings.

This symbiosis of--
Nylon webs tweak
Reactor cord,
Which I see--

Sewing segments to
My face.

I-as-stygian
Thatching; drown
Synthetic wastrels.

Over-born and too-
Bright for us treacle-bound.
We'll lay sections
Before us--

But I'm stuck-with-
Sasquatch oaks; --ginkgo golems
If only clouds could lift
The moon which frequents
Venus-speech at night.

Needless for dormant-- endings
We've been untwisting,
Thoughts trapped tightly
In rules-
And it's us again,

That can see or forget the darkness,
When keyboards and pens
Tame the light.

Look--
Spoke-an
-Elixir of drinking
Revolving on anecdotal-- songs
Smudging dialect with faceless
Smoke and

--Tree stamp magnates
Break silicon fingers
Every-time-floating-
Becomes a possibility.

Metallic-murdering
On precise though incisions
Through mice; made gagging
Voices--

Those frogs that sleep backwards,
-Wingless for the flies

We are comatose rising.

'I should be dead'


Said the sleeping-
Sadness--
Trying to speak blind
With cayman lips.

This dust is different
Lingering internally-
Flailing at unchangeable.

There were pieces,
Like me--but-
Crafted from puzzle
I left them inside-the-clouds.
On the pathways-
And with her skin-

-Though the atmosphere stole them.

My familiarity had gone-
And now--
All I have,
Is singing carcinogens,
Gargling on numb.