unit 145 (pt. ii)

fumarole dreams in the vestibule
celebratory dinners featuring jackals

and other untruths
currently undergoing a vector change

kiwi quiches timekeeper their florins
move away from the couscous & contempt

dowry requests will now winter in situ
smokes drinks talk and then bed
see that your damsons are free of fleas

i apologize for the indemnity of loud nonentities
i apologize for the quicksand martini glasses

unit 145 is currently undergoing flotation
which consists of the renegade consumption
of pony kleptomaniacs

my nightmares are forsaken and bubonic
my pestilential inner eye is palsied
my parsley looks like paisley

so please, please, please
let me, let me, let me
let me get what i want this time

i am contusion-adjacent in black
the quinces are in the tinderbox
and i am ill with the human condition

send colonists and hogsheads o’ vermin
we’ll rule the world in a century or two

oh bondage, up yours
oh bondage, no more

What I’m Reading:

there were chickens, chickens, chickens
for as far as I could see…
when I woke today, I noticed
there were eggs on top of me.

— Jack Prelutsky / “Last Night I Dreamed of Chickens”