I’ve grown tiny gills for you

pulling and puffing 
reaching and rushing 
                    Expel me 
into the shallow goo

putrid duck pond
brutal blows to the chest

the hollow fists
                   O infant robber king
I spend eternity tending to my

impaled envoys, in Spring
melees form in a flower bed     a devotion

monolithic craze for pulling off the heads 
he stitches my sentences shut

clambered up the thigh, blood lusting tick
I pace the perimeter

The mud is worst near 
the temples of immaculate heart valves

still waist deep on scenic lands
dry enough for crying

in the valley of endless 
teeth rot and candy crucifixion
                 the one and only 
viable option, the throat

offered up like top notch pork
to the hail and hell storms

What do I care for a world without you?
By midday       I’m delicate

dedicating
my whole husk

my finger stubs
                   child, let’s ride

to the music shop
where we must buy

a single ukulele string