spoken with my speeding i hear
comes corner
flying fuck bird
with water gushing
from my hands like a dead drowner
bloated
oily
WALL--
of waxing air vent
energy to keep pumping my hips at darkness
open chute i'm gunning
can't hear
I AM GUMMING
the rear leather
roughhandled saddle sitter
i just made that
a work-out
or why can't we just therapy each other
with squirt guns filled with air
pressure
to sneak my fingers into a key hole
pushing all the skin off
so more dead fish
we eat the poor suckers
and their souls or anything
the vast emptiness of my sex void
losing a bodily battle to poison
weaken my goose fat tongue
brittle brain cube
clumsily dying in language speak
is why i languish
over my slowly decaying ability
to be able
without breaking
my tusks off in shallow
biting at rocks in anguish
and roar as my singing can be understood
as weeping at jokes you tell me
which are the same jokes being told all over the world
i am dying i
or have died many times but my memory
of what i am and my desire of what i can be
have locked me into this nothing
not growing
never moving lost sock in the dryer
the static is numbing
i can't hear you coming
but the light shines
and then it is dark
and this happens
forever