Leathery skin
furling by
the hides
of ideas,
to impart
the coyest

We are searching for dismantled cameras
with the flashy leitmotif disabled
in a disbanded cinema

And in the dark you ovulated, murdered
under the thickness of rough tree bark

Haul trunks of
a *****-tonk
dismembering
remembrances
rows of seating

Squalling, beautiful voices
throaty, tonefully sinking
in tune with imaginary keys
located in grey, clinking
between stained ivory tiers
and scuffed ebony branches
rending the reddest of heart-drawls
then plucking each riveted contour

motionless, inoffensive beige mannequins
stare with purple glass eyes. reflecting
windows in a grey plaster store

shopkeeper embraces
handles a broomstick
his sense is swarming
turns on a television
death and corruption
death and corruption
broadcast test patterns

no retribution for the cold and weak
a quack, hands in pockets, prances past
a roughly-edged black and white photo
of a specific eventful sunset, noteworthy
in the limitless notebook, a prime number
dated, thoroughly checked off, presented
the outer design is undeniably fractal
it is packaged in crushed red riches;
the coloring is so very numbing
the experience is so humbling

A physical form is misplaced
the blueprint is just blank points
faulty articles of a future failure

(I haven't been led to believe
that something makes a good anything)

In her hair were
lilacs and lilies

how she felt, indescribable
at least as my hand imagined
an apartment held a sad fragrance
like nicotine and a cold, wet dog

Just in case
you are dense
-I don't think

I just travel, cutting off measurable descents
and action grovels and spits out piths
it dances in a grimy booth

the door was smooth and shiny
it was covered with fingerprints
from little boys in other countries

I said "ma'am, you aught to not invite
those who wish to distance everything
to pull apart each atom, leaving a space
for arson'd counties, and tarnished valleys"
beautiful vacuousness, so glazed & reflective

(for once this cannot be fueled by spasmodic impulse
in the cortex, its context's slightly appalling
every single simile has been used
even stating the futility is
so futile, so starvation
digests them)

hates the obvious
reasons with none
destines tomorrow
steeped in sorrow
in the spiteful pun
the tritest treason
a heyday we'll pay

we adhered to one
fly-papered world
and miscalculated
syllables we've hurled
the lateness unfurled
on this newborn day

this was exactly
what you thought
I would rightly say:

It was a sigh like no other
a respiration of desperation
a thousand times over

It was as if I could exhale
to exhume my own corpse

I'm in love with this word
only aimless expression
with a senseless,
seamless repetition
for it never disapproves
never uses the writer
as it was itself, used

I'm in love with the world
but only as a whole mess
of uncanny absence

As a strangled moment, leapt away,
exposed by obscure limelight,
I shall expire

Magnifying the reflective scarlet ocean
a marred, oily silverscreen eclipse
a piebald, ****-mired unicorn
curled at the feet of a ******
in a subfusc-glo™ hometown
crushed by rusted machinery
amongst rudimentary scenery
in a homespun anathema gown
in the broken household, wound
up men's eyes, went grey and dying
past every thought, incendiary
words lambasting paper
mayhap, I'm through
trapped, trying to
explain other
wise, now

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

as it implicates its own demise, an imprecise device,
it resides under an old dresser, half broken, disheveled
it is ready to debate against its own existence
but in itself it'd always revel

it's set up to be undone, bait in the waiting room of hell
moth-eaten in a musty basement, left to teeter on the verge
of addressing the most difficult one, dressing us up, to
tear apart the carefree air with a drunken singalong dirge