Observe with me the binding
of means and ends. I
stapled each finger and nailed a pair of palms
to the same plank.
I sat, bemused, in a room with one door.
A room with two windows.
A room with no floor.
I sent my regards.
Then, I took it upon myself
to send them again. And would you
take a look?
Fuck that.
Fall for deceit in two leaps.
There is a pounding in my temples.
I want to send it hard.
I want to rattle those teeth baby.
For my next trick I shall saw my assistant in
half with albums on wax.
I want to send it hard.
I want to rattle those teeth baby.
Ladies and gentleman, we now present to you
a live execution reenactment.
I want to send it hard.
I want to rattle those teeth baby.
When you can hear the surprise in
a voice over the lapse of time
you know that
you haven't marked a gouge in
the totem poll.
I have dawned my tree spurs to
the tune of a whistle torn from a western.
This is all green screen.
All smoke and mirrors wing splint.
Friction sparks fracture.
Friction spells disaster.
I am anxious.
I am angry.
I am spellbound.
I am overloaded.
I am a hypochondriac.
I have walked the plank
at a fast pace and stopped
dead in my tracks to push pin
my abdomen.
Bow your heads.
The brief cough spelled
celebratory but
the muffled mutter of the crowd
spelled otherwise.
There is a bulge in the carpet.
A hump on the putting green.
What we lack is slack,
leeway, thumb tacks and gingerbread don't
pin point our tracks.
These dots dance over maps and
diagrams
in a hot flash sobriety collapse gasp
contract diaphragm.
Bellows grow in bounds,
loud in a power outage.
Words saved by battery labor
and savagery penciled on paper.
I have been growing my nails
and plugging the wounds from my
selfish stigmata.
I plan to still be able to see you
when I cover my eyes.
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