He holds smoke in the palms of his hands while he walks,
on backwards,
lying still,
pressure pulls the follicles of hair and rust to attention.
Strands turning on his spine.
Rolls, carols and carousels, sing harmony and charity, give me my due rights! I am poor you see!
Air and breathe discover time cards punched black and blue lungs
Inhale. Inhale! INHALE!... and through a straw you'll see my struggle to exhale............ and release the stress of the world's worst boss--
life.