I hold you as the chameleon with his spring-trigger bone Holds his tongue And I will catch you as a fist I will lick the stench from your odor sacks as a skunk
All those creepy little fragments bugs in the system;glitched codes they are shackled souls in a microsecond arc-length of the universal Prodding the dirt and the worms as stars
How about all the spice trees? The many different species of food glitter they make the buds sparkle, they are thinking of the taste of umami, of sour, of patchwork gaze the cooked vestibules of bone the marrow, seeping into the stew The pepper trees are smoked equinoctial bonfires You and I are yet to be cooked through
A taxi in the trader joes parking lot Big repetitive 7's splattered across its paneling I won't forget when i'm drunk or inebriated somehow The tree in the center of town is lit up with LEDs Branches curling like worms
You are Pharos, you are the great celestial beam you are the crescent moon, thin as a sleeve and the hot taste of batter on your breath the way you let my Guinness cool off next to the space-heater and give me yogurt from the local townsfolk Everything is creamy, you said.
But i don't like to hear that It's a steel rod into my brain, that. I am a simple Vishnu Hare Brahma I do not have any purpose but to be enlightened and worshiped for my powerful odors and a four-chambered bowel that makes the turn easier for worms.
2
Pitiful
You are the hopeless pod the many wildebeest, crossing their annuals through twirling water-crocs, Lion Prides Leopards shifting within the brush Bacterial infections from ***** tusks Strange metal boxes No 7's on this side
I want to blow the ******* skulls off of anything that aims for you, sweet mare 45-70 Will literally send chunks of it into orbit Lion or Turtle or window or Children The most godly thing is a bullet And the streams of blood that will seed a new ravine and seep the next feed of riverrun