given enough time the human body diffuses

almost entirely to sand i’m told this isn’t a

symptom that most causeless pain is the result

of simple misfires from the heat-doused brain

and this is why lightning prefers scattering

inert night why most of what should kill you

doesn’t my mother birthed a dirty cup a fault

crested with crumbs and goldenrod she asks

are you hungry i say the flies aren’t as loud as

they could be she asks are you hungry

there goes another sprig growing up i was a

constant babble fury of quarks in love on fire

but usually on fire i clutched pigeons in

kleenex and plastic feathers my skull

confessing to fantastic red ignorance back then

death rarely came closer than the sidewalk my

body an animal i locked outside the house until

it keened our names back together now even

my putrefaction bores some things do not

change i cut strawberries with a steak knife and

in dreams my joy when i realize life doesn’t

exist in that wet unremarkable sun is almost as

great as when i realize i don’t either