By | 1 June 2022

and no! to a superb love &
no! to belonging to kisses and no! to
a stomach storing your juices for a rainless month.
you will walk the length of your bloodstream
feet pickling in all wastes you encounter.
when you are really loved, properly loved,
fully encompassed in all aspects of your humanity,
you are no longer free to destroy yourself. or grow
hormones germinating in pans of molasses
trays of inky growth sopping over their edges
clotty waste tangling in the drain cover
glands of some poor beast plucked and twanged aghainst
an ancient draining board. glass bell swarming with
slinky roots. life itself. the fetid music of the ways
budding fancies of mouths put underground
breathing in the matted dark
a harsh fog blinds the authorities to the will
of their populaces, plotting delighted in the suburbs of
the mind, distinguishing process from error and
propagation from desperate synthesis
monoliths dedicated to anaesthesis, monuments
erected to radiation. the nuclear tower skipped eating today
to make room for the huge leathery trickstitch
that would see her seam blown, as they say, SKY HIGH.

I am delighted in my little sin
ordering metres of drywall like nothing’s happened
sending wreathes to the bereaved
somewhere between sunlit doze and sightless mania was I,
hopping from one fucking foot to the other.
penetrable to the extreme, pleated with darling
rosebudfolds and wet little hydraulic suckers.
I bounce like a goddamn olympian
my form gets grave with the going of the light
supercoolant and the chrome pools of my eyes diminish
with the evaporation of coming night.
is there help about
some technician who might notice me and straighten
my steely skirts, hold aloft the fatal error in my wan complexion.

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