Sunday, January 9, 2011


‘choke him, choke him, choke him!’ all the Rice Crispies on the bed chant to the single Rice Crispie lodged in the Hoover vacuum cleaner’s mouth

bedsores full of static

a cobbled, novelty garden feature shaped like a sick person

a tenfoot shadow broke in last night

organic veggie coloring book for the bored ill

you will only show your ass when you’re dead

wake me up when death’s pimple crosshairs on the air mattress have turned cloudy

the fountains should be of the purest air

so yes, I want a germ-free Uzi to finish me off

don’t tell me not to eat in bed

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