Why Inhale If You Have To Let It Go

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too early of a dance in this white rain in a gray and brown city we built from heaps of old dwellings don't know how deconstructed with swarms of rusted nails appealing to our clothes reflect the plash

conical feet held on my head to ladder the conduits without ropes or metal;
i envision my granite bones conducting feral electricity,
a mix of wet burnt and antique urine pulls my hair til the scalp
     knows its place

no clouds but no stars, as if optically spastic
a house as big as my shoe, a tire almost my height as i flick the switch on the roof
rises like a dozen wings escaped from victorian hats since lips could be redder, more muscular,
cant get a hold on the tiny hairs we wish were underwater inventing a color the fish enjoy
embracing the subtle gravity of what hadnt dissolved 'til the 50s

i don't know how this shirt got on my chest in a 3 walled house skivvering
the way a brain cant be held by less than a village where some gloves have extra fingers,
some pants with changing pockets, hair attuned to the weather obsolescing hats and scarves
i envision a cliff between my outstretched fingers and smell tomorrows forgotten harvest

the door should get out my way as ribs pulse like neon in a black
     and white world
my eyes aluminum & crinkled anticipating the dawn emulsified
     into legless insects
flowing over the horizons frothy lips fertilize the grass into circuitry . . .

potential breath, proven friction, occasional flowers, an hourly surge
     of nervousness
when a bird rings against the crawling cars who slide like skaters on a borderless roof
'til the comet grabs a body opening like a stagecraft clamshell reveals a lithe perfection
my loins would join with this sand, paint & aged fruit pulp faintly glowing with imagined fat

looks like lightning but sounds like a sneeze in a concrete room halfway     underground,
the light is moist and slightly foreign, as if the first time i smelled garlic, as if i was a mongoose threading my way through crowds of sleepers with credit cards imbedded in their palms
waving to get a reaction from the pre-set orchestration
but one violin will never move, regressing with horses and trees, streams with regular hours,
i look at where I was laying and know my body couldnt fit there

i introduce myself at the border, hearing coffee cups resting on tables
before going all the way to silence, pulling the edge of the street taut, seeing cats like musical notes obscure the intuitive addresses
     no city could resist,
streets intersecting in every possible way,
alleys that would fade with the moon and rise with the tide
im in without having entered, my shadow already on its way