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--holy holy in the unholy dust-- tonight i want to speak outside all these objects even as huge blue helium balloons nestle against the styrofoam ceiling i have lived through thousands of books and only a few people i sent my shadow through tree after tree like a stunt double through fake glass pacing the streets waiting for the shape of poetry to come highways pad with black caterpillar feet into swamps of infinite white plastic spoons the bending eyes emptied of all labeled bottles her hair wrapped around my bedroom's furniture legs my feet land like drops of mercury leaking from a thermometer wall gauges covering the walls with silver arrows a girl and boy play in my mirror (that's us baby) bodies like plastic fish and the air-conditioner blurs the sound of my name being moaned in the backseat of the mirror my car has it's own breeze hair filled with oblivious pillow feathers scrubbing moss from my back in bamboo bathtubs where were the throats of poets when i was young and not yet ready to hear them sneezing newspaper letters on a hearth of misted glass dull-brick eyes of grandma shuffling her memories with thick thumbnails rhetorical planets sneeze back at me in oval mirrors freezing a pint of blood to carve a skinny statue from skin never touched by any needle and the cars wrench intravenous food-coloring memories from me with their sneering stereos solar systems of faded pornography conquered by indifference orange peels and plastic plates that i want to smash hand in synthetic hand in a streetlight alley waiting for time to crinkle like tinfoil in every flushed hallway of shaved heads i fling golden paint like fish through the air and arrive with a fetus in my sunglasses on a marble doorstep shoveling bricks of oxygen turning the fruitbowls green i arrive again & again the flesh red leather fluffed by backwards hours cows walk through my snake-skin wallpaper living room this is the country that i left; tinfoil roads through brown soil crystals that revert to ice-odor in your hand bear hibernation caves lined with celebrity pin-ups now it's only sight-destroying light & the sound of a labyrinthine trumpet i want the clouds to show me a new color to open a two-ended worm mouth to suck away the landscape to leave a seamless white floor and one cold empty wooden chair to drift through my logical spine surrounded by ghostly house frames and off-white sheetrock walls granite hand springing from cracked tar concrete red as an apple blonde wigs scattered around the cold feet of a green road sign vibrating newspapers emptying themselves for stacks of new words a candlelight kiss in half-frozen emptiness of the power outage blue deodorant gels carved into devil arms horns growing out of the sink's porcelain giggle a kiss remains in nitrogen lips of quarantined airport air sleeping only in motion, heavenly lipstick smeared on pants zipper cellphones like broken flutes around me on leather seats indescribable textures of purple funk music in my triangular braincells a smile like ice i would travel without these machines a smile like foreign sunlight i would drip tears of sinless joy on clean carpet alleyways, dirty brick kitchens long cool fingers smooth crumpled whispers around eyesockets on a bleached pillow beside a flamethrower bible feet wiggling in REM sleep to walk tortoise-shell mirrors love me in the mushroom cloud of a healthy gambler's alien heart like a moon sprouting with rice crops my lips soothed by a new cool orange reptile tongue forked roads knuckling down in digital clock speech orange sunrise lizards smile unlike politicians on windowsills white teeth reflected disconnected in red bedside soda glass in tilted parking garage stairways where the body ends slumped angels removed cigarettes from all the unsatisfied mouths of startled suddenly virgin prostitutes i'm in love i'm in love all alone.
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