pour out of the slits in the cosmos,
swimming pools of purple mutant blood
gather in the ice cube trays of concrete
encircled by rented souls.
Plastic trunks of scaly trees
cross windows of the lonely looking
over lots of neon hotels
where ships of machine crafted steel
painted by unconsciousness
reflect the agitated conglomerate eye.
The falling of a fleshy leaf that lands
on this electrocuted petroleum land
traces an escaping pattern
on my bony scraping hands.
Zones flex and curve like buttocks
the quaint demonic architecture
jumps and crashes.
I laugh where the intersecting blandness
makes a bolt of lightning
write like minnows on an ashen stand:
some underwater rock, some printed altar,
is the place where all my senses ran.
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