My bathroom remains the only place I'm ever naked
Smashing soap into my hands each morning,
the shower throat all belching there behind me, bloated with my shedded skin. Good riddance
One son restroom away, my blinds clench up on the California sun,
setting fire to the dust and possibly day pull on my apartment and I
A genuine fear as to where all this sleeping leads has got you thinking thin about what you would and wouldn't do to survive
You would not dig for a fresh wet wishbone in a still kicking chicken chest
You would not dissolve small slices of unraveled arm under your tongue
You'd maybe k** the power to your hand, but that's about it
Really, you know
The razor for your face cannot cut kids from your male animal abdomen
You were not born the moment your stomach was finished
Your one wing plucked eyes half filled
And wild yolk like so sliced into a since
So I ask you,
have you ever really had a hand fall off?
or found your mailman in your home,
eating one of your new poems, holding a knife to your bills
Half swallow the scream, you can't cut,
and still keep all the juice in that half opened up arm
By tightening the ropes of your digital watch
You will grow no ghost to leave this angst to
And this no ghost will wear no locket for the safe keeping of your fear
To dangle like a heart
So it may forever hear the gulping throats
of all your sloping drops of blood
Like this was something beautiful,
when compared to your red skeleton
You've asked nicely for your arm back
Except
And everytime the sun leaves you alone on a far curve of the planet,
you think you can feel the whole slung six pounds of cartoon heart
And all its iron tugging d** towards it