We’ve seen armchairs yarned in factories
as they take away great grandmother
with cancer of the lungs, a string of long
fluid woven into her assembly
apt for a tapestry, a long room
that is woven of her memorized thread of choice.
A Volta television swamp floats until breath emerges
gentleman like, heated from its length of rope nerve.
Six looping pythons in one belt
4:44, a tilted mirror and
iii. Theat.rics doub.led (/when spoken to/) four.teen mirr.ors
The radio has got to quit following people
into my secrets – I have seen the evidence of other shadows doubling
with these voices on the radio.
A four head of micron,
swallowing outer arm crazy springs.
Our life hair challenges them,
Marquis Sylvania, an albatross equilibrium. Harsh bone
puzzle hands twinkle down, to plant
a Hammond organ growing from the soil
(hours) plastic touching our childhood.
He can play very well,
his fingers ripe, his hands
a harm of fire towers
The year is reconsidered
from a palace in the rosemary
our mice neighbors twinkle fingers up
proposed leaf ( / ) long shapes in hand-assembly.
The shouting, undressing old pin point swing sets singing a shallow end of the swamp
our pearl necklace –
ink warped leaf fabric
rude shelters, but argyle (deceased) +program.
Four headed television rug
arcs to the necklace pillow butter, luminous
hallows inside letters chiseled of ice weave,
foam reflection –
lamp shade on lamp shade,
tan pillow case, mirror maze.
A fragile, breakable exhale comes in
through a python repetition of half eyes.
The silk in my feeling
is spinning anchors –
one way spatial relations,
a low cloud stripes up sticks,
a life can be a lovely beginning.
A lewd, distracted light emerges,
I am resting the speaker to your velvet thigh
all rosemary arranged in radio, red language.