there are some folks living in my bathroom
from the in-between world
like a trailer park
for toilet home bodies

it is where some
of the the dead living habitate
gnomish broods who feed
on the mist of mold
and fecundating aberrations
of **** and excrement

where the difference
between objects and souls
blur
sinks and toilets
flapping opinionated vortexes
of gloom brooding
walls wave and warp
like angry water
and howling wind

they are living creatures
animated bodies electric
crying mouths
without breath
fierce undulations
animated denizens scowling
rattling like bricka bracka
used shaking chairs
always steaming
hysterical
daring you to fight them

sometimes between sleep and wake
i enter their dimension
unable to break free of my sleeping self
held down
paralytic
like a narcoleptic slug
inching its way
through a puddle of warm oatmeal

last night i found myself
in the in-between world
to discover some desperate hollow woman
barricading the bathroom

i pushed hard against the door
and heard her sonorous groan
as she collapsed
into thin air

i think i love her