Tuesday, June 18, 2019

Ship's prow folding goldenrod
an unstrung xylophone's
plaques singing in a slimy net
grass unbound from the earth
dirt fragments floating suspended
above a racing sidewalk
seam after seam of concrete
shadows slapping over a table
corner of a scorched diner
two mouths speaking
the crunching of buttered toast
rent paid to the breaking branch
ass print on the windowsill
dust carved into cursive letters.

Ripped dog in a thin hallway
the bull in his nerves
pushing a broom head
water circling a scratched
porcelain funnel
snarling at the handle's lid.

Curved wood crushing bodies of straw
fangs and their heels of stitched lightning
a fevered bug
stabbing at his clogged glasses.

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