oil waterfalls

argon oil comes from god
straight dripping from a hole
in his heart. my dog is a tiny god
& i am just trying to please her.
i want it to stop raining once 
& for all. we can learn to drink oil
from the tall glasses in the cupboard.
my hair is turning into straw & soon
it will become a nest for future birds.
this transformation will be good
for practicing my balance. i will feel
the eggs pressing again my scalp.
i will know their shape & blueness.
did i ever tell you i came from an egg?
i keep my egg tooth in the drawer
alongside other knives. knives are hard
to trust. this is why i lock my door 
at night. sometimes a knife will try to
poke its tip underneath the door
but the base will not let it enter.
it's not easy to pry thumb tacs 
out of the wall & have all these little holes
gaping at me. i tell the holes
i am lonely but not lonely enough
to try to talk to them. a mouth
is always getting bigger. my lips 
are made of rubber bands. they ricochet 
off the walls of a big autorium where
an assembly was supposed to be held
but we do those kind of things online now.
it's really for the better. i am sick 
with the virus from trying to download 
some pirated movies. there are pop-up windows
girating on my soul. who will save me
if there is no fountain of water
full of coins? the vegetable oil 
in leaking through the ceiling
& onto the carpet. i am in need
of a moisterizing motion. my skin is dry
as potato chips. i crack open.
a bird pecks at my window. i tell her
i am very busy right now feeling sorry
for myself. on the television 
people compete against each other
in various simulations. i root for them.
they confess to the camera
that they need to the money 
to save their corners of the world.
i imagine them finding dall bills
underneath their tongues. sometimes, 
i look down at the sidewalk, hoping to find 
a twenty. i have found three so don't think
i'm reasonlessly hopeful. i am of course
more hopeful than i should be. my dog
is a realist & she cries every single day.
she sits on a throne made of tuna cans 
you left behind. she drinks oil
from a puddle on the street & turns glossy 
& powerful.