bullseyes the distance between needle & need is not far enough. in the cupboard my bouquet of syringes is taking selfies. is it still a selfie if the picture is occasionally someone else? what can i do to become more disposable. i need a nice trashbag to dance in. out behind my house a trash monster devours the rinds of my oranges. a ring appears on my leg & it's neither a trap door or a coin. it's possible a manhole cover. i am possibly a sewer. all the water is running away down the side of the mountain. what have you evacuted from recently? i am scared the planets will align wrong & all my friends will turn to basil. i press a needle into the wall & inject exactly what we both need. the house becomes hairy & hungry. a fever is settling into both our bones. holes in the ceiling reveal my neighbor. he smokes all day. he kisses the cigarette like a house husband. rings of smoke curtsy in his living room. every living room has a dying room on the opposite side. i pull up the floor boards to find mine. not what you might expect. not all black or all white, just a light sepia tone across everything & a sleepy feeling. a bowl of red hard candies promises if you eat one you will never leave. when participating in a haunting it is most important to not use your hands. don't touch anything. my favorite ghost runs his finger across my shoulder & i ask him if he knows where needles are born. he does not. a needle bush is alive somewhere. the hands of the pickers are raw from grazing the implements. i used to knick my palm & my thumb. i have been a red tomato pin cushion. i have been a dying room complete with a gramaphone. after it rains, i'm going to convince the water to form a lake in my bath tub. i will fill the syringes with water & press them into my tongue when i feel myself slipping beneath the sofa again. a man is soon coming to break the blood vessels on my neck. i will hand him a need & not a needle. i will tell him to press his hand to the ring. i will ask him to bring me a lake. press the needle right here.