Sunday, January 1, 2012

MY CRACK PIPE LOOKS GHASTLY

I wish my gurney would become the flying beast again
its colors three-toed deep, wading through nail polish remover
general-purpose decrement sucking somehow on a Tetris monstrosity
the robo-nurse still chewing its gum thoughtfully
I knew a chemical compound between jaw hooks,
causing extreme pain to ears, underpart a raw whitish
dimple sneezing eerily under the gas station halogen
of higher cerebral functions
employing your cheeks and the little organ in back
of the throat doctors still don't have a name for
on my crack pipe's creepy thorax, its cortex screeching farty
in a tire swing; it whoops, a NSFW humanoid apparatus
ribbed, flaccid-skinned, hanging bonily on pegs
gills of Post-It Notes for fading discoveries about Twilight Zone
underwater drowning, the soggy specter of the toilet paper tube-man
cartoon morphology wrapped in standard-issue sheets
just another form of hospital that depression
likes to manifest in

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