Writing with your guts on the floor at your feet
one last line
I thought I saw the dampest of the rooms, the quietest of them all
a place to thaw out and find solitude
Crystalline castles of crushed candy, cobwebs in your clover,
stone cold sober but I'm lying
Water in a parched mouth like parchment sent south with
letters left sideways
Paths in the patchwork with placid predictions on the possibilities
ahead of us
A rusty hook in your back between the discs, rupturing cartilage,
imperceptible and brisk
The wrong angle and I choke, strangle, hang from a bad angle, clothes-dangle and mangle
Pieces of Pisces carved up like jack-o-lanterns on the front porch
Internally I feel the roaches, ashes on the floor and cigarette butts
sticking to the soles
Plastic deconstruction, reshaped through combustion into the
typical and obtuse
May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 3:41 AM UTC
Writing with your guts on the floor at your feet
one last line
I thought I saw the dampest of the rooms, the quietest of them all
a place to thaw out and find solitude
Crystalline castles of crushed candy, cobwebs in your clover,
stone cold sober but I'm lying
Water in a parched mouth like parchment sent south with
letters left sideways
Paths in the patchwork with placid predictions on the possibilities
ahead of us
A rusty hook in your back between the discs, rupturing cartilage,
imperceptible and brisk
The wrong angle and I choke, strangle, hang from a bad angle, clothes-dangle and mangle
Pieces of Pisces carved up like jack-o-lanterns on the front porch
Internally I feel the roaches, ashes on the floor and cigarette butts
sticking to the soles
Plastic deconstruction, reshaped through combustion into the
typical and obtuse
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