RETENTION

Knit by lugging the shreds of heavy things around,

although, still, after a decade, the lizard has no real head.

It's as if its mask has no end, causing it to brutally

doubt its own sentience, consisting of dark coverings on

difficult days.

On good days the sun shines in under the door

but lifting the door through the jamb, sounding

like a nutcracker...

Monster sanitarium adorning us foul.

The doll on the next park bench along only changed

position once, trees exaggerating shadows, yanking

scarlet over fence spikes.

At night our hearts run out. Into the cupboards

that thereby become grotesque and try to feel us up...

Last night some sort of Tesla machine lit its crackles

on my weird gown. Something shut in a bitter pill

the nurse said actually contained bunnies,

although they must've run out like our hearts

instead instilling the pill with their bitter lack.

I learned that certain things are evoked in brains by dunking brains

in acid. The doctor said much of the mind is a labyrinth, and

like all labyrinths, it has memories, a diorama people

stay in, in my case prompting more despair because

it's the wrong place for people to stay in because

they can run out like our hearts and like the bunnies.