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the landfill symphonies i was drunk for a century walked outside through a field of painfully green ferns broke a serpent's back beneath my feet and the world ended in a blue orgasm flashbulb implosion punched with pinpricks in the hotel room of love's eternity lightbulbs sleeping like white suns supernova'd lamps with black skin-covered eyes assign human characteristics to me staring through me in my credit-card tower overlooking the frog-eyed businessmen who carry briefcases full of the snakes that i broke there are specks of gravel in my contact lenses as i look down on the rushing airport seeing skirts on thighs skirts on thighs flexed by gravity my lust doesn't include the airplanes or the formaldahyde white tongues that are the runways incomprehensible symbols in florid lines of paint & black light guide torches silent fireworks that crawl the skies like spraypaint graffiti dance in the walls of foot-thick glass while charcoal eyes stare at me like policemen's flashlights when i get home to drive endless country roads i will duct-tape myself to a telephone pole waiting not for god but for a beautiful rich woman or a busload of emaciated celebrities to pick me up let me hitchhike through an unnamed solar system's cold lightyears on comets that bear the names of the most popular fast food restaurants CHEESEBURGER SALVATION FRIED ANGEL WINGS i lost someone else's memories as i breathed jet exhaust numberless hotel room let me run from my childhood into a dark alley of cardboard matchbook eyes molten fires contained in fetid tuna fish cans lava cooling fast on the oxygenless surfaces of far-off golf courses the newscast played it's android harp in every bar the head of state plucked a paper bango in flames singing gently the action movie script sunlight is death for office workers in buildings that have become like neglected overfed fishtanks fluorescent city sword begs my bones out of my body my taxicab driver cuts his own throat with rearview mirror headlight reflections the traffic-light scalpels open him and his blood looks like milk i push him out onto the blue road and take his place behind the wobbling wheel newscast disaster-drunk ecstatic babble filling the car like dry ice from the mosquito mouth of the radio & my face pressed against the wheel, alone in the car i crash through a late-night cinema red seats filled with period-piece mannequins laughing with oyster mouths at outdated jokes ducking my head behind the buffet of infant hearts i am laughing harder breathing plaster dust please find me in the intoxicated evening identification cards floating like dead beetles to the top of pink water in the sterilized swimming pool skyscraper shadow needle of darkness falling across me tell me what my name has become legs asleep behind the wheel no wheel no pedals lips growing together speech muffled song arms tearing through the sheetrock ceiling in a powdery vehicle driving through hallways of family photos rugs wrapping around the wheels hair falling out within minutes blonde locks landing on the laptop computer's unused letters and the pages of the unread bible that is smoldering on the basement floor cockroaches shouldering through the newstand in an eternal afterlife of window-filled basements of champagne puddles & dry mops kiss me.
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