Friday, March 16, 2018

An empty carton on couches
headcase laced with rubbing
alcohol and kaleidoscopic laundry
the spinning wheel of paint
sending droplet organs
through a phantom

tiger bodies in the pulsing eyebrows
thirsty background of bloodshot veined
sleepless religiosity
beams with forked hands
pushing paper towel ceilings
menus of whipped flesh
bright looks from a winking backside
the fruition of regurgitated children
stabbing barbecue sticks
through a poison frog belly
a vacant sign dripping alphabet soup
and the popped sight
of a dumpster rainbow

the oily reflection walks,
puts on gloves
and is a machine healer.

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