RICH POETS

tell them where the poison goes
these are my holes to fill
my name is void or i am a dr of nothing
i can only cure what does not exist within my own mind
i want to be a dress you wear in the ocean
what is white is just a dumb skin for me
who cares where the piggy goes to break her huge hooves
over my face
itsa law for us to be part of the dirt
you should sing to me when i am asleep more often
i am the smell of fresh baked bread
i am as nowhere as a mountain looking down
at the quietest planet
who is wind w/o my mouth
my hands to surf out the window of my fathers car
we move because of a stubborn blood
these are just questions for dead me
into new me or the me she has out of me
tongue a wound
realize this blur of trees is just a small growth
they use them to save the crop
or fuel
or to hide
idk what i am worth or what will happen to me
when things stop working
i can hear my mothers knees
from across town
i can miss my friends until they come back to me
i will love you in a high speed chase
or on a missed train
or a bus hitting me as i cross the street
i have lost these teeth
i collected on the beach
put some other animals eyes where my skull leaked
here is an idea
here are my thoughts abt what it means
to spill what is inside me
a fluid poured into a large empty bowl
i wait 2 years to show you how naked i can be
i wait even longer to trust a murky pool
what if the fish nip my toes
thinking i am worms
before i am ever worms