rewriting joy's poem while listening to nelly's over and over

i found something
my machine parts in the backseat
youre mumbling things about work:

macguyver please
or what i can hear on the club floor
sound shakes off her objects
solar flares living in a smoke.

she slid down a tree
she spoke to me in hums

boys are the floating objects of space
debris
i will engulf your frame
stretch the skin of a cow over your bones.