attempts at purification or a slideshow inside my head

i buy liters of rubbing alcohol 
& pour it along the edges of our rooms 
to ward off the pigeons & the spiders 
& the crows. some people use holy water 
but water contains bacteria & water
is where all life slithers out.
i emerged from merely a droplet.
after a few minutes, the sharp smell disappears
& i am floating in a soup of carpet again.
what can be done to protect a home
against demons? i wash myself 
in the rubbing alcohol. skin angry 
& red. skin petaling off like 
stockings. underneath, 
my blood is the color of ivory. a white 
stagnant flock. the birds outside
are immune to rice. the spiders knit 
scarves to try & lure us out.
if i could, i would live inside 
the smallest space possible. my heart 
is a card board box. knuckles ripen 
towards sour. all my friends 
are at a beautiful restaurant
eating with forks & i told them
to go without me. someone has to
keep the floor boards company.
face to hard wood. there are hearts beneath,
spinning like tops. i am getting cleaner
& cleaner each & everyday. 
very soon. no one will recognize me.
i will walk into a voice & just sit there
glimmering with all my jewerly-bone.
when they come back they will smell 
the alcohol & the latent potential of fire.
dawning firemen costumes 
my friends will shine a flashlight down my throat
in search of the pair of keys i swallowed.
with bowls of water they will 
intimidate the fire before it starts.
i am a wreck of folded paper. i am the vermin 
in the kitchen cabinet. i am a string of floss 
dangling from around a tooth. 
the shower pours rubbing alcohol.
holy water is no longer holy.
my friends crowd together to get a view
of the slideshow in side my head:
a burning river, a skeleton-thin man,
& a measuring cup full of fake diamonds.
a demon knocks at the front door
poliet as ever. i pretend i'm not home.