Empires of linoleum
highways of painted grass
steaming mouths of truck-backs
spinning chairs bumping cracked transparent walls
stacked burners smoking teeth and elbows
floors rising through a sanctuary of mud
my fellow servants and I carbonated
with eye-straws and teeth-straws and ear-cuffs
walking the cork of the walls,
the swimming floors,
the cracked and sightseeing
ceiling tiles.

And a budding tower of stoves
ramming televised oxygen
into sentient cement,
bagging corners
to take the whole, swishing
through a maze of horse tails
and fire-laden swamps
holding a bronzed receipt,
a miniature who bites tendons,
a chief who steals laughter from crones
in these porcelain halls.