carry out / carry on

we were eating our portion of the snap pea supply.
cats in the clouds playing their lutes. in the summer
the graveyard was a bed frame. laying down with you
i tried to imagine how we might be possible.
a singular answer always returned in the form of 
stray lighters. we filled our pockets. later, in my next
iteration the same exact scene in which 
outside a restaurant, my mother circled the block
looking for me. i lead a runaway's life. goodbye goodbye.
or else we are just chicken drums. or else i am just
the boy who kisses the bridge before he turns it
into a wrack of ribs. release me from my fork.
release me from my shoe laces. i tie everything 
too tight so they fray quickly. have you ever tried
to relace a disaster? you'll be dizzy & weeping & she
will be asking you, "what do you mean you died?"
we drove home with you still inside a chestnut.
i said, "it hurts when i bite into you." you said,
"well don't bite into me." you don't understand.
i have to lick the plate. i have to walk to the 7/11
& try to feel like a real person. i am told that
if you're extra good in this life there will be laundry machines
in your heaven. if you're like me though, 
you have to walk up the street & kiss someone
who you don't really want to kiss anymore
to be allowed to use a machine. i have spent
too much of my life waiting for water to return.
you point your fork at me. a bird kills another bird
on the roof of our life. "i want to go home," i admit.
you say, "but you haven't finished your snap peas."