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I'll tell you what it is, honey... the hearts in the plywood walls are silenced the head walks through a tan wall of nipples the dog gets fat & it's owner becomes solemn starves himself & naps under a table of glass i'm eating cake blacker than hot tar the blades of the fan have stopped & they may not be plugged in next year and the orange electrical cords nurse at the cold open palm of the satellite the cat has hypothermia and i cry the dog smiles raggedly and i smile my deodorant melts on the creaking heater trying hard to equal some ancient spice i don't have time to referee the fight between the jumping sun & my slouched reading lamp i don't ever want to put on my shoes again or stop staring at my wonderful hands i have flashbacks of wrestling with stuffed animals the numbers of the calendar change languages i have dragonfly eyes when my head hits the pillow too hard i've been a man for about two days now there i am pouring pure sugar into the toilet bowl there i am yelling at the unblinking digital clock with a megaphone or maybe i didn't leave my chair yet i can tell that the tissue i just blew my nose into isn't a trumpet and i want to go to sleep in the fireplace. my luck has yet to drive a car my love has yet to smoke a cigarette my life has yet to make a fist.
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