kennel divide my fingers into cages. one for each dream. who should we send to fight off the comet? i am dripping with glass again. i don't have enough air. the rash appears in the shape of a crescent. the moon is too old for this. the men are taking the carpet away-- rolled up like a tongue. i stuff my fluids into a vase so the robbers won't take them when they inevitably open the front door. i leave myself unlocked for a reason. a key swallowed by a daughter. whose fish are dead in the bathtub? a whole lot of barking from the basement, would you like to explain? sorry that place doesn't exist anymore. hit the back button enough & you'll find where this all went wrong. the doors are breathing. a shadow dog prowls the streets in search of a bone to gnaw on. i don't have enough room for ankles. the forest once horse-knee buckled for me. collapsed & never was heard of again. now there's a clearing where even men are afraid to build a dungeon. we eat by the fire & roast our root knuckles. gasoline is singing blue & bold. the basement is growing farther away & soon it won't even pose a problem. who do you sell your catastrophes to? i jar mine up. screw the lid on tight so i can't hear them whimpering. they're fermenting. soon i'll have pickled our old love & it'll be a whole new beast.