we haunt outmoded roach motels
tacky hermit-drab shells
ready to burst
in all the random, lonely corners of the universe
and coroners
wander stodgy corridors
and remote old waysides
as we rot,
filling the ground's vacancies
tangled up and diaphanous
flaring up in the wind and burning
the godhead ached
and his stomach growled
and time had ran its course
as we wandered next door
left to idle, awkwardly
to savor the flowing ennui
in dirtied decorum
fearful, molten paradoxes
waxing ecstatically
at the moment
our distance dangled in spacetime
it was plastered on the front window
of the dusty, remote, old dollar store
on crabgrass he fell
Charlie horses galloped, tenants of seashells cried out
as it was always much easier to recite
dull, signifying nothing
while determining everything
we're wandering, bleary-eyed individuals
in the loneliest location in existence
relinquished in internal fisticuffs
crumpling the paperthin walls, as the
****** of a moving tire whines outside
and the living backdrop blurs, falls away
and the universe hastily reroutes itself