Monday, May 28, 2012

SKELETON STALKS


There is, subsequent to its circumcision,
a different levity to the lava lamp's packed organs.
Many Tetris blocks had sunk and
lain buried in the towering swamp.

It is now warm in the vicinity;
the burning is waiting. Altering your coal.
Pork snarling Buffy shiny.
Gnawed at the atlas's vinyl in
Jurassic hectares, the world's hand becoming
dogeared in stray flaming.

It's hard for a loincloth to preserve anatomy.
Harsh treatment of its stalks has
completely erased the skeleton.

Jello tucking its brown ghost into the aircon.
The cooling grid of membrane.
True blood drying on pegs.
Fillets of Anime creatures left sugar white.
In its inappropriateness as a baby's bib
my guarddog coat is stark all the way.
Front and back feeling like pairing pizzas
by a thin isthmus. A large chunk surely won't
ever find its way back.

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