The sun breaks through the clouds and burns a red stripe across my face

•

i inhale like a landlord curled inside a shopping cart tethered to the underpass
peeling from the lack of traffic & the insatiable ambition of seeds
i wish i could eat birds with the feathers still on
i wish i could swallow eggs whole and retrieve them later
once youre tagged youre slower than whatevers coming your way

+ + + + +

im already eaten. im twenty five years in the machine,
baying like an elephant swimming upstream like vegetarian dogs
as if the moon is a lens increasing its focus til a house on my ass bursts into flames
cant be MY city

windows taller than me opening into visual confusion-
the computer didnt remember it the way I did

+ + + + +

i would burn my hair to earn your respect
fall like a wall, crawl like tomorrow:
moneys just paper, i need what you have, i eat what i love, i shower in beer
how we griped about the sun not getting through the clouds

i meditate standing like the part of stonehenge leaning on an invisible tree
holding occasional moons in its exhale corona
brain net root net wireless life
as if i hadnt paid the bills for months so my life got repossessed
     and auctioned off

+ + + + +

to die of exposition—i know so much that doesn't fit together
as my mind is opened it wants to get back inside
what doesnt come out keeps growing
when some far in the future nova threading through like the archangel
     of repression
as a slogan infests the crowd so the face on the wall must be changed

grabbed by the nose the throat the hand the buckle
kicked in the knee the groin the solar plexus the eye.
as if they thought i hadnt left and kept paying me.
as time whirlpooled into the tiniest pucker
so I couldn't sleep without falling into bricks and boards
lost like plumbing that wont surrender
as the boink of water drops on the head of a man with a saturated towel
     in his mouth