i own shortnesses of breath, of height,

and speeding these same slick streets

is my fondness of the fire inside.

 

was ever there a woman? no, it doesn’t.

 

pinwheels occupy a crawl space breezeless, harsh realm, man.

to not perform the hypnotic

only task.

 

a cunt-hair from the crypt 

until i unfold, and snatch what for i just prayed to Jesus.

 

O! a fresh chimera!

 

the squad:

fanning out like this, 

like accordion pleating

inside of a wooded parcel.

fathoming fawn prints nesting

nervous urine.

prioritize this mockery,

behold this flood,

whiff the funk.

have y'all got it?

 

O but then there’s me -

untroubled, unblinking stare-zeez.

i’m arrested, frozen and forever.

teensy-weensy microbes strive to breed on my boot’s tongue and i can’t bust my scrutiny.

 

so why on the other hand am i trippin' right now?

i’ve reveries of chicken nuggets in blister packs, and ponderances upon the deepest mysteries: how razored can one wimless half-pint fashion a saltine with his baby teeth?