this is a portion of part 1 of a 4 part poem
lastly but not a blue floral moon, incandescent and silently struck the pavement before digressing its directive was somber, says go and be tides sweeping your fatal tectonic plates, forks, knives and spoons, written on a napkin “we will not bother you.” we will dismantle the future on sheets of mercury, smooth sharp silvery sunsets, instead stop and slide out of space for a second. rendered motionless, devoured by clams and eels swimming over horizons of fissures and lobes. synapses are buzzing, dendrites reaching out like a man whose had his legs blown off by a mortar. that last piece of friction follows you down to the dead meadow, whispering through the keyhole our wishes are made of plastic. us, we circling the idea of coition like black magnets. above jars filled with coins, seated aside the eternal toothpaste is a prescription for love, the expiration date having passed. take out your pen and copy this word for word, invading me with those sore eyes, what runs through those veins and beats in your chest do you know. inches are just another unit, but exactly how many will it take before i bulldoze your memory. preceding me there shall be a gigantic chasm, hollow winds drifting over and over. far from a meaningless speck, i would be your world if i only tried, swallowing orange laughter, nails bent and cracked. my loving is a bit rusty, but yours is getting dusty.