a savior preaching music
on a stage
to an audience of toads
slow boiling
in a vat of liquid opiates.

a dead centipede
is curled up
at the foot of the door
of her apartment.
it was waiting to be let in to love her.
it is waiting to be let in.

it is a small smile on the floor.
a frown at the door.

light becomes ash
is a physical shadow.
it is the breath being held
in the cup of the hand
that is letting go nowhere.
it is the moment we blink
when the bubble is made
from a wave and is popped
and is stared at and stopped.
it is a disharmony that is crafted
to separate the bliss from the bliss
so they can view each other
in delight.

ill catch fire.
choke on dirt.
drown in toilette.
get stuck behind fridge.
lost in TV.

neverendingcommercial.
neverendingcommercial.
neverendingcom­mercial.

an idiot has raised a village
burning at the stake.
cooking for the forest.
a family of plants
burning in the sun.
a chorus of screaming heads.
bodies of illness.
harboring the mind of melody.
and a creature which does not exist
slithers in from every side.
a mouth open so wide
it is emaciated by its own strength.

when you realize
that this whole time
your hands have been spiders
crawling out of
the mouths of snakes
then you've got it.

the rain is every fruit of heaven plucked at once to feed the fruit.