newbrainonscreen

walrus tusk pierce my nostril
and i bleed into your soup
A will serve it anyway
that is what A does

i cuddle close to the arm
of the record player
and vomit on the leather
glove you left on my hand
to think of you

the gut worms are awake
and say "hello"
A offers to cut them out
i take the sharpened spoons from
her three fingered hand

i dream of you trimming
my hair on a wooden stool
in a kitchen that
lasts forever
i collect the fallen hair
and nest in your wrist holes

i lie. i truth.
keep me close. but not there.
far. but don't leave.
she can't be me.
can you?

the ivory leaves lead
in my lungs and
i cough out scantrons
fill in the dots to make
my winter wonderland
wonder when

i ask you to open my skull
and you kiss my ankle bone
with a rolling pin
i straighten the gray matter
and hold it in place with A's knitting needles
no straying thoughts

the cigarette towel smells
of your face and
the toast with the jesus crawls to the door
i quit searching for miracle men
and begin to count steps on my sternum
the map points to me
and i take the scalpel to the xiphoid process
breathe deep once four two gone