forget me not.
hiccup little one
hiccup and revive arteries with
chicken legs, for stew?
hiccup little one
why spill salt
acid and mmm h20? on my
down sheets, 500 count
all of the threads and
tell me you boom
sick thump, thump, thump
synchronized swimmers, swim in a pool so
long distance stroke stoke, breast.
strokes? no, no let us begin.
mojo, majo, so sorry.
only 1 can come back, no room in this rabbit hole for 2.
you said you wouldn’t take it back.
it–oh it drains.
fickle and fluid and fluids and fluids and fluids
The Wind is in Me
The wind is in me suckling, hooking bones
and singing haikus peculiar
fingers with daggers of a honeysuckled crown
This oxygen to inflate barren lungs
The Wind is green with a gluttonous grin
Pierced cratered cracks in shackled frames
Skips croons with raindrops drumming hollowed hills
I spoke with crocheted lips loudly
Trees heaving freely
Hummed felicities of a “transparent” fallacy
a parallel universe.
footprints foxtrot on fogged out windowpanes.
chew through lacquered cracks, and
broken hinges—eyes filled with crimson iodine…
lubricated disillusions plastered on
Arsenic tile tops.
on cow skin chalkboards…
and sinking funeral pyres.
Frosted cobalt cans—battery acid.
antiqued soy milk on billowed basinets.
Feigning fits of oozing simulacra.
Mirages of orbiting mountains and
I always wanted to go to Disney Land.
Strung out skulls click bic pens.
chew tobacco pipes—chew tobacco skins.
She said count to 10. Sprinkle fairy drops on nature’s split ends.
Faint nausea from black-eyed machete pens.
and is it me that you are looking for?
(this world is my vacuum)
Split twigs—cherry blossoms;
lilac frying pans on stewing saucer plates.
shriveled kid cries—Bourbon formula.
There’s a spider duck crawling up Sahara riverbanks.
Fine point molecules ambush floating nostrils.
Barbie eyes tell fables of
history not repeated. history forbidden.
Burned out explosions—crash.
birth silver dollars in the sky—(Not fireworks).
Miniature dove wings clash with
stewing pigeon thighs.
slinky moans on raspberry gumdrops—everlasting gobstoppers.
I would rather not meet you death. Save this interview for a later date.
Pretty pink tutu twirls on apocalyptic palms.
spins on doomed tarot cards.
opaque futures in molded pickle jars.
Bounded feet. tap tap
on hollow cathedral doors
crawling from heaving cracks on jaded waterbeds.
these tears trickle through
cellophaned hallways rush
Someone to play hopscotch on bloodless hearts
road construction causes traffic jam
in stoned eyes—bat meets windshield.
golf club meets
peeled skin from tender bones. Tucked.
safely in this pirated treasure box.
poison to ease the rigid chill.
fever sends chills down boiled necks.
diamond encrusted pennies dive
into salivating fountainheads.