Blood machines/artery freeway
carrying plasma screens
homebound to stare at reality
invisible webs from the talking heads…
neon red eyes when the camera dies…
Freedom-put that in the air… candy! candy!
we’re panda bears, hiding in fan leaves.
the flame from the funeral
spins all the ghosts through the smoke.
hold your nose,
this whole city is covered in coke.
under oak, i keep promise to nature
-who’s gonna butter my toast
when i run out of paper…?
that’s what i ask you.
blood machines rumble to coastlines,
the half moon reflecting my flaws.
stuff poetry into the jaw of my house..
the only statue-esque part of my flesh
is my marble mouth
here i go, spitting out marbles,
dribbling galaxies…
mind flies and disregards gravity.
Freedom. put that in the air…