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--you go out how you came in, with your tethers looped around. the door opens and the severity of the look and pause behind it strikes you makes you wonder if your cheeks are chins buck-eyed grin is thin upside-down grown in from the last your reflection checked. the man belonging to scrutiny is pendulous but swift to sweep his batwing out and it is as much a welcome as can be given, as much a welcome as you can recognize, air turns to ink beyond the thresh your ears are offered coffee tea sugar or cream, were there always toadstools sponging on your knees?


what could be children avalanche past and catch on your clothes, the sir who swings weaves so you follow the swaying skin and try to remember why you came in, for the key you lost, was it gold or ring stone or leaf everything is worth the same to you when it is missing from the horde, you tug the threads around your waist for more slack to follow further fake no notice of the itching feathers sprouting deep from forgotten flight bones you are here for the locket or you are here for whatever you recognize in the pile, you've heard by the time most get to the belly inside their memory's gone blind and avarice laze and lust combine, makes greedy, sexy sloths of them content to collect whatever nearest pleasure fits the void but you've prepared this time you listened to your smother and learned the loops set those pensive silver strands round yours and the center pillar outside, tugged a borealis knot tight squared shoulders hips knees and toes and set about the thrice-two-rapid four-tap knock.


the man stops short and his...

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in the jelly light forest your

arms around my middle keep

part of me here, i feel how

your nerves and your chest

beat aqua green marine life.

 

i want to stay wrapped in

the hopeful...

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an itch beneath my left shoulder 

close to the spine where i can't dig 

into the muscle drives me fucking 

crazy, it's a shock more than an itch 

but the best i can scratch is skin...

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110

i don't really know who these poems are for so i don't know if i should keep doing them


or if i'm seriously trying to put out a book, it's stupid to ask for money if i think my...

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98

it's not a brooding stare

it's a squint, and you look

pained with gastrointestinal

distress.

 

the potentially nice things

about you don't make up

for the crumpled rucked up

shape you...

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113

weird, the convictions you seem

to need, the system protects their

murders instead of the species

extinction, ocean dead

and oiled for the lake of fire

ozone opens like how i'm

picking a...

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is there a day we can get through

wherein i don't disappoint you

i don't actually want always

to be right or things to go smooth

but it is only okay if i am doing

things to improve?

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each step back is three

like-minded in the quiet

types, where is my tv

sitcom overture to let

me know the shitty

parts are done with?

 

woke behind but not

in the past. the night

i need,...

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find me in the nebulas

curled up in the gasses

i left my legs on earth, they

wail as the planet passes

i float with the horse head

stare unblinking into the eye

drift the rift, the black...

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158

lazy dundee days

daffodils and daisies and

all the freakin' dogs

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