Friday, May 27, 2011

CHICKEN COOP SUPERNOVA

unwinding an ulcer
into dots, and watching
them float languorously on the surface

Pizza Hut is no
longer a 200km-wide
unused overgrown median
strip along the inner thigh

a monster's lobe
diesel-marinated:

these are
basically scrabble letters deep-throated,
chewed, and collated by a puppy
into the words *Blade Runner*

the part of your
brain responsible for keeping
deer antlers
in Tupperware

red shift
sunglasses, like
choking on a phantom limb,
when the irises return
to a point in time immediately
before the Big Bang

paraplegic movement
with respect to
tiny toe
death throes

coral gradient
combing of 3D pinpricks,
the view
is amazing

the
paint can's
numerical value

either a decryption of a chicken coop's
building specifications into
plans for a makeshift
supernova clobbered together
from radially pointing
wooden planks

or
a recipe for opium

but your hangnail no
longer has an appetite
for manslaughter;

but rather for suicide 
 
a new personal challenge
of turning the
grave site's delicious screw

therapy's shoe lining
twisted over the deathtrap
to cover it with
a parking lot

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