all torn around the room, sleeves slid downward
and i’m done again with brain drops on the window outside.
some mad cricket can’t see no one’s interested
contains the why is bleeding by, blazing sped of offish vectors
driven mad by brainy sky, hazing head of office lectures
make it work the way i asked and care enough
and stop your contents.
my stirring hand needs more beer when i’m not allowed.
there’s been so little weather and it makes us sick,
sun that rises like it has to, three or four minutes of brain,
out to the ocean, where no one feels the pour
and lungs make the quiet not so,
heaving liquid down the hatch, panicked death of a mad cricket
if i’d gills, the blackened divide, sharing space with upward endless
would be the mile i’d walk around
leaving legs for a breathing, a melted sort of walkupon.
it’s raining on my house of water,
i care enough, i’ve found my contents
right beside the bordered bed
of living laterally,
rotating far from any sort of real dark place
i’ve never made in my mind the nothinggrand
like waves can make without the effort
saying not and still it means
the icy stare of space betweens
i think a few have, but most of them are dead,
conquered, quite plainly
knights of infinite resignation with no castle to defend