focus drips over
a too fast heart rate
as i live
with too many layers on;
i am not barefoot,
i am hardly breathing.

where, where, where/within, within, within.
i shine an “oh-my”
on my lovely wife
and she goes to GOD and prays for me,
we love each other, she prays for our child.

i am too old to be selfish.
not a moon, not far away.
i am here
sight-grace burning the veil of the roles i cherish.

i am the world, i do not need it.
i have been given the greatest gift.

I'm a cup
of something green.
You have lips
that are smothered in that green
and you wear my tall hat.

Long ropes of rhododendron
are a different green where I hide.

I have a big, round nose
on a big, round face.
You have a slender, angled nose
on a slender, angled face.
I have a tall head
and no shoes.
You have no shoes either.

You're a cup of something else;
too full.
You spill on my chest
and I kiss your lips
to get back some of the green
that you got from me.

The whole thing
lives between you
and your toes;
I lick you
to see the world again.

damsel of string;
wait-listing
long tables
full of leftover dribble.

guard of course time;
hamstrung
between yellow and gold
between black and fuscia.

founder of the pulp;
tear your ears off
and grind them into a paste
of vibration and alien blood.

mother of the mirror;
don't look at us.

world-product: the pink, glacial swoon
that covers paradise like asphalt over bare earth.
gift wrapped, and out to harm,
the unchecked pleasure walks us into compulsion; and we pull out our eyes as an offering to death.
unaware of the tone that calls itself silence, we hypnotically pray that decay might grow to take our neighbors and our children.
—
is what you want what you want?
—
“ask, and you will receive.”
the way has a way to work through us all.

the entry
is plastic
and strung on loose thoughts
of salvation come yesterday.
the entry
is water
and dope,
marvelous bug eyes under
a cemented glass brain.
the entry is warm jelly
and allergen,
dim lights become strong.

the entry is waiting
and it is beautiful.

there is a man in the garden
who prays while we sleep.
hypostatic growth
in the heart, analog
of eden;
eve and adam and the luminaries
took residence in the void.
in the beginning,
before nostrils
or distinction
there was a man
in the garden
that prayed while we slept.

bleak rot
traces static cube rim glasses
and chases the quota
of the sum
of the total
of the whole
into a long and tall and capital I.

I am red of ear, slink of wrist,
and marrow;
fuming like a full tread insect.

slanderous geology
as tongue speckling glory
is ****** and lowly
on the cowgirl trail
showing it's back
as it's best
and trading weekdays
for poor metals.

fibrous, numinous
radiology. sulking and wading.
tributary becomes runnel
becomes mighty becomes cash
becomes pulpit, or pulp.