bristling panorama overtake me,
neon'd snowbanks sprout thawed species
for the death spores of modern mail,
two pigeons awkward of footclaw
upon the turntable of black glass,
the slow song of icicles
the red hair churning into a taffy
as she turns her orbs suspended in the world
like a bloody tongue looking for candy
in the rust cartridge of the oldest phone booth
of this rotting lemonade district,
search my lungs with a hammer,
touch down into the recreational areas
with tube nostrils of bacteria overthrow cancer,
sprout from stumps like nuclear salad,
cause my limbs to hang a bundle of black susans
on every one of her doors, neon my surroundings
down to purple dust, let the sellers hawk