his tiredness
crawled to pills
(puncture wounds)
party masks and a defrocked
holy man mocking
the television like a rat

understanding thin lips while
the air is thick
with a pervasive sense of envy
and i know
how yr going to hurt me
i know what yr trying to do to me

with yr "oh shit" voice from the
subway sandwich shop and
yr slightly removed search for answers
in my eyes
everyone knows it
the cops
the robbers
the beggars

so lose that sidewalk glance
eve was just open water
as you inhabit the land of the
original semen generator

it becomes easy to paint you as a pig
simple to reconstruct or relive
hidden corrals hitherto rejected
as "in between the lines"
and there's yr voice again
with a lack of amnesia present
where all verbs are singular
like unlocking the door
to the exact spot where tetanus has meaning

making the planet seem camera ready
every last syndicated antichrist waiting
to show the clip on the projector
top down from it's element
shooting bullets
scratched by a can's rust
of the junior consumer club
just because
it seemed like a good idea

to displace any sort of
ice block
oil so olived
by relief
that nothing
could wonder
if the misplants
had started to backfire.