Unlikely 2.0


   Let me go on lovin' and believin' 'til it's over. Please don't tell me how the story ends. —Kris Kristofferson


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Last Shards
by k. m. gallagher

One

lastly but not a blue floral moon, incandescent and silently struck the pavement before digressing its directive was somber, says go and be tides sweeping your fatal tectonic plates, forks, knives and spoons, written on a napkin "we will not bother you." we will dismantle the future on sheets of mercury, smooth sharp silvery sunsets, instead stop and slide out of space for a second. rendered motionless, devoured by clams and eels swimming over horizons of fissures and lobes. synapses are buzzing, dendrites reaching out like a man who's had his legs blown off by a mortar. that last piece of friction follows you down to the dead meadow, whispering through the keyhole our wishes are made of plastic. us, we circling the idea of coition like black magnets. above jars filled with coins, seated aside the eternal toothpaste is a prescription for love, the expiration date having passed. take out your pen and copy this word for word, invading me with those sore eyes, what runs through those veins and beats in your chest do you know. inches are just another unit, but exactly how many will it take before i bulldoze your memory. preceding me there shall be a gigantic chasm, hollow winds drifting over and over. far from a meaningless speck, i would be your world if i only tried, swallowing orange laughter, nails bent and cracked. my loving is a bit rusty, but yours is getting dusty.

focus, i am a house of rubble, pull out from beneath the ruined pangs of sobriety, set on collapsing your aura clear into an ocean of visual and sonic phenomena. prisms and mirrors abound, buried under the color of headlights in rainwater at night, them dissipating with glassy shadows. swaying with the dashboard, while radios speak and jumbo jets are soaring over lonely motels. there are television towers taller than the highest spire on the greatest skyscraper: i use them to broadcast my thirst for you across the haunted continent. you're a cake coated with acquiescence, i forbid you to eat drink or piss until these threads are untangled. chased down through the wires, clocks that rise and fall and form ghostly walls around the proverbial vegetation. shapes torn to shreds, to cease my sleepy spasms, piles of abandoned effigies are woken by the voltage. currents crash your cartoon character and shimmer against the paper. dark white words, turned and spun through a cyclic pattern, you line them up i'll knock them down. meanwhile oxygen outbursts and warm fears, bodies surfacing like dead jellyfish. it's timely, the spacious tongues rhythmically stirring inside. on hometown streets with starry maps, guiding you are the power lines, parallel like we. rivers of regret run through valleys of desire and over mountains of indecision. spliced our two identities, i am the dynamo of how to calculate the forces and probability of this collision. so, heave your bags of grain to the junkyard, grab your luggage and climb aboard the vessel, this is a one way flight with no stops.

put your life in the washing machine. the spark of aquatic mindsets, thawed out of frozen ice, place your appreciations on display it's now or never. preserved the safety pin and cheap cologne, deceased artifacts and the rolls of film erased. chew on this: wallpaper moves by your design, like ripples in a pond, a warped backdrop drenched in apathy. get sucked into the wormhole, released from my stranglehold, throw a lid on your bottle of nervous apprehensions. my heart's under lock and key, the pockets are emptied. i aim to fracture our supermarket rendezvous, drilling perforations in the fabric. surrendered to the throes of disease, annihilated by a single keystroke. my exploits go unnoticed crawling below the radar of your antennae. persistent eardrums, music without bounds, blown up and amplified beyond the astrological divide. multiplicity of exits and entrances, our losses are immeasurable, the names of casualties omitted, carved into the trunks of trees, or just drawn in sand with fingers or twigs, washed up and discarded like dirty wrappers created by ugly monkeys.

watch out for sticky magic, hiding in nocturnal alleyways, bludgeoning assertions into a primordial stew. waxen halls lined with bronze figurines preaching their forlorn grievances. everything leading up to now you may forget, easily as unflinching cardboard dialtones. mangled beyond recognition, residual faces upside-down with mouths for eyes and eyes for mouths. effective immediately all your accounts have zero net worth. this is an executive memorandum, a drastic measure, a motion for your existence to hereby be stricken from the record and deemed inadmissible. that jewelry poses a security risk, limited time offer, no down payment, batteries not included. breath taken away like belongings, a beacon homing in on blind intuitions. knocking on the doors all numbered, parasitic and poisonous. the imminent threat of meditation, pure and unadulterated, draining drops of potion sad and diluted, fed by cerebral alchemy. tracked the parcel package in uninterrupted transit. you may strain, you may blink, but notice you will never acutely escape the webs, the nets, ruptured arteries and gills caught on the hook as you eagerly await the next installment.

Continued...