Staring at a blank world

An absurd word

Telepathy and oranges

A blue envelope sits on the desk

Scratchings of heartbreak within

Duties of the monster coil

I do not breathe recycled sin

Antwerp and Amsterdam

Nepal and bolognaise sauce on under ripe pasta

The shanties swim in the grayness

The mist of the clouds is heavy, wet

The spires fornicate with the clouds

Angels’ wonder cries aloud

Coffee tins full of bandages and cash

Fingernails unfolding a gash

I am document one, dream two, life three

I make no sense because my head is like a machine gun

The glittering sun and the horizon

A small child rides a goat

Breaking nicotine gum out of its packaging

The kid would rather smoke than be a joke

Unlucky charms splinter and fall

It’s easier to start with a blank bullet

You can press any button and it won’t destroy the world

This hair is driving me crazy

Too much of too little

I’m a derailed lobster

I cannot find my way to the cold sea

At the end of the country

Where I can look out upon Canada

Sitting there on the other side of an imaginary line

The visions dissipate like time

Memories coughed up like a cold

We all get old, we all decay in some way

I see the stars I know

Now all wrinkled, gray, changed, bent

I’m staring at a blank world full of shapes

Waiting for something bad to happen

Sipping on a cup of paranoia

An orgasmic orange waiting in the refrigerator.

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