to a woman

with a baby

skull in the cradle

of lap, a valentine heart

appears

together on the table

of two identical basements

the fevers stay cold

fever sense 

my lull

goes out

to paws

like hands

cat,

i need your

pity.

an insect

and the fall

just pushes

it away..

little  brother,
it is embarrassing to die

to see the sky below
as an abyss
and hear
it’s

horny thrush

brother,
we are
blessed

to ensure,
that allegory
isn’t fatal?

if this lemon
weeps

out of love,
deny it.

feel the cosmos,
imagine
the lemon
a mountain
species

accompanied
by a very long
profile–

pain will
define ‘outline’

but outline
defines
material
inadequacy

ignore the waterline
my woman

become pastoral
for this lemon

territory knows itself
but when the wind
fills the air, there
ain’t no more
setbacks

italy
apart from
you

my heart is just
a suite at the
cosmo for
you

undress//

and
my cleavage
sails like
confetti

No longer can I reduce these letters to lowercase. I’m crossing out passages and my location is gradual. Seamed imitation of life. Some folded magazine papers. I’m the ‘original nowhere,’ the ‘too much lobbed hair angel.’ Locked in, I can’t eat, or shit, or cry. Things go in me, nothing comes out. Sometimes I take my clothes off, or put them on. I copulate in cars, under street lights. My face twists into poses of execution. Loss & abandonment. That is all I am, and, I am not bored, and I have no other interest.

& the dwindling of
what was a
‘healthy’
relationship

i can write
once more

i’ve really gone and fucked
it up this time

soaked myself in
goo

last night
i noticed everyone
truly has an
‘emergency’
voice

like the time mary dell
began choking at my
mothers restaurant

can i announce
these figments
to you?

the air is thick with
kinsmen

a war cart just
walked by my home

this is all beginning
to really suck,
i should just
break the bones
of my fingers

leave a tulip
by my grave