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the landfill symphonies
i was drunk for a century
walked outside through a field of painfully green ferns
broke a serpent's back beneath my feet
and the world ended in a blue orgasm flashbulb implosion
punched with pinpricks in the hotel room of love's eternity
lightbulbs sleeping like white suns supernova'd
lamps with black skin-covered eyes
assign human characteristics to me
staring through me in my credit-card tower
overlooking the frog-eyed businessmen
who carry briefcases full of the snakes that i broke
there are specks of gravel in my contact lenses
as i look down on the rushing airport 
seeing skirts on thighs skirts on thighs flexed by gravity
my lust doesn't include the airplanes
or the formaldahyde white tongues that are the runways
incomprehensible symbols
in florid lines of paint & black light guide torches
silent fireworks that crawl the skies like spraypaint graffiti
dance in the walls of foot-thick glass
while charcoal eyes stare at me like policemen's flashlights
when i get home to drive endless country roads
i will duct-tape myself to a telephone pole
waiting not for god 
but for a beautiful rich woman 
or a busload of emaciated celebrities to pick me up
let me hitchhike through an unnamed solar system's cold lightyears
on comets that bear the names of the most popular fast food restaurants
i lost someone else's memories
as i breathed jet exhaust
numberless hotel room 
let me run from my childhood
into a dark alley of cardboard matchbook eyes
molten fires contained in fetid tuna fish cans
lava cooling fast on the oxygenless surfaces of far-off golf courses
the newscast played it's android harp in every bar
the head of state plucked a paper bango in flames
singing gently the action movie script 
sunlight is death for office workers
in buildings that have become like neglected overfed fishtanks
fluorescent city sword begs my bones out of my body
my taxicab driver cuts his own throat
with rearview mirror headlight reflections 
the traffic-light scalpels open him and his blood looks like milk
i push him out onto the blue road
and take his place behind the wobbling wheel
newscast disaster-drunk ecstatic babble 
filling the car like dry ice
from the mosquito mouth of the radio
& my face pressed against the wheel, alone in the car
i crash through a late-night cinema
red seats filled with period-piece mannequins
laughing with oyster mouths at outdated jokes 
ducking my head behind the buffet of infant hearts
i am laughing harder
breathing plaster dust
please find me in the intoxicated evening
identification cards floating like dead beetles to the top of pink water
in the sterilized swimming pool
skyscraper shadow needle of darkness
falling across me 
tell me what my name has become
legs asleep behind the wheel
no wheel no pedals lips growing together
speech muffled song
arms tearing through the sheetrock ceiling 
in a powdery vehicle
driving through hallways of family photos
rugs wrapping around the wheels
hair falling out within minutes
blonde locks landing on the laptop computer's unused letters
and the pages of the unread bible that is smoldering on the basement floor
cockroaches shouldering through the newstand
in an eternal afterlife of window-filled basements
of champagne puddles & dry mops
kiss me.

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