bone apple tea boneless feet
bonus amp in cheese boney kerosine
blonde amputee bone atrophy
phone apple jeans A B C D
toe tap the fleas
i want to see disorder, destruction, chaos.
a delicious razor blade to my tongue, madly bruised,
like the raving fanatic at the corner of fulton
and cliff, mouth drunk tripping over pennies and sidewalk
cracks, hopscotch of unintelligible words,
speaker’s podium, cracked prophet of
the new millenium, millennial—i speak the truth!
i speak the truth!
otherwise i’m the caveman, primitive, hunting wild beasts in
the day. i speak words in the embers.
growling, terrible—i create language. these are
our first words: i want desperately to speak— to speak—
i cull sounds from disparate skies. scuffing
echoes along cave walls—i pray you interpret
or, like a child, i’ve torn up the spelling books, white sheets
soaring like doves. instead i’ll learn how to spell
in vivid color and sound, the sheer hilarity of it—gobbling up
bowls of fruity pebbles, watching television
pinching the soft forearms of friends, sharing jokes,
baseball bats whacking against piñatas. i trained my eye to the
kaleidoscope, turning beautiful worlds, yet rational—
now i’ve thrown the kaleidoscope
against the walls. a zillion colors shatter
like claps of thunder, meteoric syllables—
we run unhinged among the flecks.