places where I worship
from the dark green church of my fascination with heavy frogs comes the **** body of a boy wearing the head of a heifer. his legs are not entirely under as of yet but he is let stumble. from the same dark an excessively wormed fishhook flies on a line and knocks the boy’s ******* behind like a bell. I scratch my fake arm from shoulder to elbow and believe the sound is not coming from the hook scraping back into the dark. even in dream I hallelujah lip synch.
places where I am discontent**
in an abandoned dog’s house, I am, shoeless, with a slipper, in my mouth, a spotlight, caresses, dry grass, my mind, I mistake my mind, for the brain, cinerea, for cinema, my thoughts are meat, are herded, whipped at by a whipping tool, I fear nothing more than I fear, my *****, what it thinks of me, or that it thought, me, first, and lastly
beneath that whip, at the end of which, some interrogator’s, bulb.