i broke one once

the road to hell is paved bright blue

what you can see in the aches and pills
of ecstasy, the astringence of piss.

hell, they say, is an open palm.
well, they, they could be me.
but you'll never know


stacks and stacks waiting to fall over
drunk and vomiting splinters
stop squinting

your eyes were not meant to readjust
to natural light

birds mock me. it was all because
i convinced myself their name
didn't exist.

they twirl their asses on the uppermost
corners of crates and boxes
and flicker sunlight between
their tail feathers

wooden structures
obscure the dawn, and i breathe
on my fingers as if my mouth were
an oven, and my words fire


i rip carbon copies out of a book
white blue yellow
and remark the seasonal changes in the landscape:
two fucked up sheds with windows busted out like
pathetic breakings into dance,
still the same,

and a tree and field i've remarked
too many times to myself
to photograph

i think now i should say i will never
just to damn myself


someone lost two feet
spray painted onto cement
and i wonder how hard it is
to walk with two feet
you can't call your own