Fit fine finesse fundamental

A syllable governmental

Caring wish fluff crevice

Behind unseen glass

Mistakes, misogyny

Pimple shade mahogany

Stain, stain again
Circuit orchard in full bloom,

gloss of chrome pollen, metallic sap.

Clouds spool algorithms of breath;

their rainfall smells of disinfectant and sleep.
Glass teeth bite through the current,

words turn coral in the socket,

each clause calcifying under pressure.

Plastic saints kneel in a shopping cart,

their halos made of receipts.
Cap for porcupine

Monkey mind

Fluctuate just about

On the cusp
Dreams queue for security clearance.

Time is rewritten in the shape of a muscle,

flexed once, forever.

Fit is a frequency,

a hiss beneath the nation’s jaw.
Beneath it: ants marching data,

an orchard of wrong tongues grafted together,

the fruit leaking colour too soon.

Inside every syllable, a mirror riot.

Inside every metric, a trembling seed

that won’t germinate, won’t die.
And still, the planet rotates,

an exhausted centrifuge of wants.

Satellites blink, counting our breaths for sport.

The sea rehearses its collapse,

but keeps feeding the shore.
You and I hum with nervous syntax,

sweating under aurora light.

Noodles getting cold,

and I am getting old at the same time.

Miracles made of stardust and MSG

can only be performed at the right temperature.
Between the lines

Then set

To serve

Palate fresh

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