everyday, every morning, every night 

every sea shell in the world 
fits around my neck. i am making
jewerly to remember broken plates.
i eat off the carpet today,
laying on my stomach & pretending
i am a snake. all week i walk outside
& see an old man
smoking cigars on the back 
of a sow. i think about his lungs:
two black lakes. sticky wings.
he could fly away any minute
any day now. i have been
testing how long i can hold my breath.
i imagine the world is full of water
& i do a free style stroke
down main street. everything is sleeping.
swim lessons don't mean you are 
automatically a dolphin, 
you have to work your way up. you have to
eat synthetic crab meat & pretend
it tastes right. whatever you need
we can make it vegan. all the gloves
are blue & lonely. they walk
holding each other by the thumb.
soon, the sun will be cancelled
& we can move on. 
i cradle my leg like an infant
until it cries. my limbs 
sometimes have their on consciousnesses.
it is a constant battle 
to teach them empathy. my thumbs
are horrific & so is my heel. 
a power outage will save us 
from all the work 
we felt bad about not wanting to do.
there in an outlet in my heart.
there is a blender somewhere
making pulp out of terrible book,
the blades are getting caught
on the spine. i hope the man
is still out there tomorrow.
i hope he doesn't slaughter his pig
without letting emsay goodbye.
let me say goodbye again
& again & again. my last lover
turned into a firework 
& i took a video at least.
play it over & over. every morning
leaves a tooth on my doorstep.
every night takes it away.
there are payments you need to make
in order to maintain this position.
i pour quarters in the bushes. i wash 
my face in a puddle left by a broken pipe.