water foundation

i cut a hole in the gourd & get 
a whole lot more thirsty. we should be
fighting grammar as often as possible.
sometimes i punch my pronouns
until they give me what i want. 
(they never give me what i want).
if anything i am pro not-making-any-sense.
my memory is going which is either
a good sign or a bad sign depending
on how you look at it. sometimes i forgot
as an act of self protection & other times
my mind has a shovel & together we dig until
there is no floor left. online i watch videos
of a man remodeling an old victorian house.
he pulls up the floor & the next floor
& the next. i own a house now which is
confusing. i never thought i would survive
this long so each day feels kind of like
a mirage. there is an angel that lives 
in the well beneath the house & sometimes
i hear her singing in the pipes. i don't know
if there is a better way to say this but 
i could drink water until i make myself
into a pond. manmade is an oxymoron.
the land makes us & we run as far away as possible.
i do not want another scab of concrete where
there should be milkweed. i want a fountain
where we can all take off our skin & be tangled.
in a city where i don't belong i trace the telephone wires
like veins on the back of a hand. 
my grandmother was never happy 
with her life. i could see it in between her teeth. 
there are enough pennies in the fountain 
to feed the whole town. we all eat consonants 
like soft pretzels until we are sick & doughy. 
nothing left to say but the open mouth drain
of the "o." not a surprise but a foothold.
not a "catch" but a "caught" & a "hold."