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--holy holy in the unholy dust--
tonight i want to speak outside all these objects
even as huge blue helium balloons 
nestle against the styrofoam ceiling
i have lived through thousands of books 
and only a few people
i sent my shadow through tree after tree 
like a stunt double through fake glass
pacing the streets waiting for the shape of poetry to come
highways pad with black caterpillar feet 
into swamps of infinite white plastic spoons
the bending eyes emptied of all labeled bottles
her hair wrapped around my bedroom's furniture legs
my feet land like drops of mercury 
leaking from a thermometer wall
gauges covering the walls with silver arrows
a girl and boy play in my mirror
(that's us baby)
bodies like plastic fish
and the air-conditioner 
blurs the sound of my name being moaned
in the backseat of the mirror my car has it's own breeze
hair filled with oblivious pillow feathers
scrubbing moss from my back in bamboo bathtubs
where were the throats of poets when i was young
and not yet ready to hear them 
sneezing newspaper letters on a hearth of misted glass
dull-brick eyes of grandma
shuffling her memories with thick thumbnails
rhetorical planets sneeze back at me in oval mirrors
freezing a pint of blood to carve a skinny statue from
skin never touched by any needle
and the cars wrench intravenous food-coloring memories
from me with their sneering stereos
solar systems of faded pornography conquered by indifference
orange peels and plastic plates that i want to smash
hand in synthetic hand in a streetlight alley
waiting for time to crinkle like tinfoil
in every flushed hallway of shaved heads
i fling golden paint like fish through the air
and arrive with a fetus in my sunglasses
on a marble doorstep
shoveling bricks of oxygen turning the fruitbowls green
i arrive again & again
the flesh red leather fluffed by backwards hours
cows walk through my snake-skin wallpaper living room
this is the country that i left; tinfoil roads through brown soil
crystals that revert to ice-odor in your hand
bear hibernation caves lined with celebrity pin-ups
now it's only sight-destroying light
& the sound of a labyrinthine trumpet
i want the clouds to show me a new color
to open a two-ended worm mouth to suck away the landscape
to leave a seamless white floor and one cold empty wooden chair
to drift through my logical spine surrounded by ghostly house frames
and off-white sheetrock walls
granite hand springing from cracked tar
concrete red as an apple
blonde wigs scattered around the cold feet of a green road sign
vibrating newspapers emptying themselves for stacks of new words
a candlelight kiss in half-frozen emptiness of the power outage
blue deodorant gels carved into devil arms
horns growing out of the sink's porcelain giggle
a kiss remains in nitrogen lips of quarantined airport air
sleeping only in motion, heavenly lipstick smeared on pants zipper
cellphones like broken flutes around me on leather seats
indescribable textures of purple funk music in my triangular braincells
a smile like ice i would travel without these machines
a smile like foreign sunlight i would drip tears of sinless joy
on clean carpet alleyways, dirty brick kitchens
long cool fingers smooth crumpled whispers around eyesockets
on a bleached pillow beside a flamethrower bible
feet wiggling in REM sleep to walk tortoise-shell mirrors
love me in the mushroom cloud of a healthy gambler's alien heart
like a moon sprouting with rice crops
my lips soothed by a new cool orange reptile tongue
forked roads knuckling down in digital clock speech
orange sunrise lizards smile unlike politicians on windowsills
white teeth reflected disconnected in red bedside soda glass
in tilted parking garage stairways where the body ends
slumped angels removed cigarettes from all 
the unsatisfied mouths of startled suddenly virgin prostitutes
i'm in love 
i'm in love all alone. 

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