Wrens ripped
from the surface of the earth
tar and partitioned benches
seaside eating castoff bread
my friend in drugs is scratching hard
nibbling the corner's edge of eternity,
with his grimace flashing insight
shorelines wrapped like ropes
around his throat and crying foul
at concrete walls bolts of lightning
repainted in the dragon's funhouse mouth
the exit through an ice cube
nests set on epoxy blobs
the ceiling of a popped world
there my virgin first car
wears a wig of leaves
brown as the ground of being
cones delicately darkening
bright lights bashed open
I'm a curling tongue on my knees
on the hearth she's breathing
through the tilt of a straw hat
stripped heels, ass pillows
and the throng of me channeling she
to the stuck garden of no shadowed moon
on beards of sparkling terra
skin twitching to shed antique
attitudes and the blues of the arches
that set us on world after world
I'm a napkin sun
she's a fog winking its way into silk
headwrap & mouth
on my parchment foreheard
my script determined she kisses.