Set natural obstacles, X’d out eyes and roads.

Two less dollars for the piggy bank and one more serpentine belt to maintain.

Two rollovers shake down shale interest.

I’ll kneel down behind him and someone push hard.

I’ll persist and maintain so surely he’ll fall.

Of course the water will accept his landing and deal with him as it must.

Time to call an expert who can levitate.

Google a source who knows how to repair a concussion.

One more diagram to solicit spark matriculation.

Cure high tension springs and bounce to the bank window.

Knock on the glass panes then fall back down.

Knock, knock on its surface fontanelles.

Record ping response time and it should be less than 1 millisecond.

Green brooches from 1932 can be used under ball peen.

Near light buoy, can buoy, nun buoy.

I mean, it’s of the fire diagram.

You have to pick a type of buoy for the water task at hand.

Mark the boundary of a floating fire in stables, keep boats away.

Sandarac burns and there are wooden tables and chairs sitting in a burning stable made from Sandarac.

Offer paycheck deductions to save the Sandarac rafters.

Tip over a pew to keep us from leaving.

Throw down Old Teamhorse in a trash can and set it on fire.

Distract the distinct from hurried odds of process.

Use buoys and floating news to keep waterhorses at bay.

Horseflies will leave their motion inside buoys.

Crack each open and tell me how many are still moving.

Order basalt then tusk from the Special Deciduous
menu. Name the microcosm of each leaf. Melt icicles
into a glass, turn on your numbers station. An
overturned car is hollow on the shoulder: five white
miles of roadway closed for five weeks. Do you want
static on the glass rim or keep it virgin? Answer
before they change the menu for the next generation.
32,767 points of entry. Enter through the holes in
their brows: Amway died in a bus accident. Our
mechanic was crushed under a car when his garage
jacks gave out. No hydraulics necessary in 1776.
Birth canal stuffed with sawdust: count the clouds
in egg drop soup. While waiting for the school bus
a Monte Carlo opened fire on the kids. Don’t put your
makeup on using headlights as a mirror. Reach into
the buffet and take waterlogged crests. Reach into
the overturned car and tousle dark and damp hair.
One leaf is commemorative while another from the
same bough has disintegrated. Set your alarm clock
two hours early and order the eggs. Pass the pepper
shaker of 52,884 universes. The last dishwasher’s
blood can still be seen on the back door: robbed while
closing for the night. Fetch the turpentine before our
supervisor gets here. How are we to entangle at a
distance when you are using 3G and I’m on 4G. Legs
are sore from all-season radial tread. Quit sitting
on the curb when cars are being chased by cops.
Not until cambrian jaywalking did the cops begin to
issue citations. Fewer people are less tousled by fewer
hands. The bus driver said he’d rather fly out the
window then be strapped into his seat hanging upside
down. Minerals get under your skin. They’ve gone and
changed the menu again. I always used to order Baked
Alaska. Now they don’t have a dessert menu. There’s
not enough interest in desserts anymore; everyone is
accustomed to sand. The vibrations of a jetliner
making a hard landing on the boulevard are recursive.
The waitress offered Mandelbrot glass rims; you said no,
no, too expensive. A foster child played with gasoline
in a dry shed. He used to order from the original kid’s
menu. They don’t serve his favorite hot dogs anymore.
If he was still alive he’d be an old man now, protein
in a banker’s suit. Soil will never tire.

Saskatchewan now. Arrived just now.
Create neighboring synthetic habitats. Punch
a hole through for migration before all of this
is gone. What form is our host if this universe
exists as the pliable components of a cell
within its body? And its atoms and the parts
of each atom, circulating through the larger
form– Mammalian? The rock peaks of Orion B
collect our clothes. When the cell collapses
our universe ends. Build an exit. Its remnants
age as waste. The host takes Pseudoephedrine
for a cold before Voyager One reaches the cell
wall. There are 500 billion galaxies in our cell
and 200 billion suns in our galaxy. The cell
is moving at 4 MPH through a femoral artery.
The cell has no awareness or navigation. It
does house individual consciousness within
universes the scale of atoms. The host coughs
and blows its nose. It wipes its brow, or is its
brow wiped? Brushes grass from its neck, or
is its grass picked from a hide? Smells of
cologne or dirt? Our cell floats to a different
part of its body. Is the host male or female?
Bison with independent eye movement?
A corpse in 3 seconds from now? Our 1953 is
its what? Is it aging on the floor of a locker
room? Is it bald? Does it need to be shaved?
Is it homeless? Is it an addict? Will its
decomposing accelerate our own demise? Is
it running up a hill in a frontal assault during
its own world war? Is it being choked by larger
hands in an alley for not repaying a debt? Is
it being raped and impregnated with lack of
care? Or, is our host a still-born infant– named
Claire. Wrapped in leaves and cloth and buried
in a dusk field in Saskatchewan.

We won’t cold brew malaise. I melted a safety cone and caulked the quadruple pane. Coupons are falling!
Dishes don’t wash themselves. I kept reminding the pilots to not slap at the dog when he began to squirm
and bark. Don’t let the dog use your inhaler as a chew toy. Inhalers belong in shirt pockets, co-pilot. Don’t
chip contact lenses. Abruptly recoil from sound. Some can make glasses break with a single tone. At the time
you trip on the stairs, instinctively put your arms forward. Close eyes, close mouth, close nose, close
Windows on the World. The slenderest glasses are always the hardest to clean. Hot water is best for assam
and arabica: when the neighbors are yelling you don’t go down. You know those kids playing baseball
might break a window. That kid will pay, the one in the stained blazer. He’s really full of himself. Caught
nothing but air in T-ball. Wear orange shirts to the continental breakfast. Launch the buffet out the window.
Get a running start and push as hard as you can. Shoot that fucker right out the window. Laugh! Just imagine
the hash browns and eggs and bacon falling onto a crowd below. They looked up and laughed! Waved,
flipped you off. Flip them back in good nature and chuckle. Who is going to wash all these goddamned
mimosa glasses? There’s always the weekend, push and pull the remaining carts. Tatter your dress tie into
a pinwheel and spin it like a helicopter. These people don’t know how to fall, tumbling blindly through updrafts.

A.

Precambrian Barbasol. Euclidean shrapnel
used for shaving. Sit back and allow nurses to
wet their towels. Red toolbox used for lunches,
red-glazed drill bit mineral-hot. Make your own
air holes. Time the remote charges and grow
lean enough to fit through a crack. Slander
can make its way in and a sliver can find its way
out. The Zapotecs will find aftershave in their soil
and know it is also in their corn. Late-century
greenhouses: growing corn in a coal seam?
That is us, lean enough: layers to slip into the
Earth. The shape of shrapnel here is agate.
Drive your car faster so the clock slows down.
Don’t cough when being shaved, your neck
might get cut. Your hands might get crushed
when a coastal plate pushes under. No dowsing
rods will find us then. Eat from the hope of
extinct fish bones. Their cheeks already gone:
bone nursing bone.

B.

Look who became their own pickup truck– Billy!
Can’t get out of his truck now to swap chains on
the playground. His mom told him he’d become
that truck one day. She was always saying to be
careful with that blade. Don’t want to cut yourself
shaving trying to rush out the door to your truck.
Don’t want to crush your head in the sink. Don’t
want to let your memories run down the drain.
Driving down a freeway becoming part of that truck,
fossil-strewn floor mats and all: Old Billy F-150.

Commerce dream. A mannequin washed
ashore behind Macy’s. Latex skins on repeat:
chemical insolvency and crashed airliner. There
is no past halophile, no salt black market. There
is building an escalator for money. Dejected and
covered in overhead compartment papaya. Build
the escalator downwards to the bay. Foreign
filaments ignite and sustain movement. Pierce
thin membranes: deposit information. Easy to
breathe the same air. If fluid is warm then use its
amniotic wattage. Borders flicker: neighborhood
brownout. Rust infects the skeleton with water.
Leave car tires out to collect rain. Mosquito
wings stick to brackish elasticity. One dead
pediatrician got out of alimony. Monitor debris
conduct. Disorient the smallest paws and exile
raincoats to oil shale. Send rubber tires back to
their trees. Indigo identity disorder is a friendly
enemy. Indiscriminate moving staircase: lay
down, ride it down and accumulate enough
courage to get off. Let your straw-stuffed arms
rip off. Face the carry-on forgetting its combination.
Face skylights of motherless aorta. Transmaternal
octane of plant matter. Consume and delouse
filaments. Send bombs to antiquity and forget
how to act. Manners. Duplicity: glide hair back onto
the scalp and cough instead of kiss. The escalator
is the fastest route to inflatable boats.

Mow the grass field where a school used to stand. Fake
asthma to break a head lock. Smell the dress rip against
asphalt. Someone strangled dogs with swingset chains
that are no longer there. Two dogs were fucking under
monkey bars that are long gone. Someone climbed
on top to watch them. Run, fall and land on your forehead.
Pull melted cheese from your own swallowing. Dig a pit to
bury rubber balls. The side of the building is made of tile.
Got there early, threw a ball against the wall and caught
it. Mud puddles are impossible under parallel bars. Ride
the Zipper and crash where asphalt was later removed.
Freeways have shoulders for ambulances: don’t park.
Fog settles on park bench gum. Erase the borders of
former wetlands. Dig three hundred feet beneath the soil
to reach a Maersk freighter. Take blood pressure and
extract a snip of flesh from a landfill. Pearly whites go
into a coffee can. Cratons moved near goal posts
then migrated inwards towards the center line. There are
cratons in chewed candy hearts. The outer layers
dissolved and a tongue pushed around bedrock. Saliva
is former blues. Pit bulls licked the scraped brow below.
Old worlds cover cratons and are passed from desk to desk.
The floor is three, the building is now a fluid. Write notes
and share candy from one mouth to the next. Two dogs
are still fucking under the monkey bars. County put a
state fair in the field where we ride perpendicular in the
Gravitron. The field grows no crops now. It weighs less
than Pripyat. No buildings can be described with artillery
shells. We lack sautéed onions for a 4H burger. Wipe
grease on your sleeve and find the specific tile a rubber
ball bounced against. You want to buy more tickets
for the rides? The ticket booth is gone. Cotton candy
won’t shield its craton. A trinket will be swallowed whole
to become lodged in the middle. One quarter pushed
under. Another coin pushed up. It is the denser parts
of structures or fields that outlast demolition: they occupy
the dirt. Buildings and chimneys drawn in a classroom
in a school that no longer exists: center rings of
Valentine’s candy. The center of a BB. A fraction of a
second between the rings of an alder.

Retrace gamma. Our retrograde forces of
volition have dispersed and are murmuring,
snuffed out. Sprinkler fire turns on its sparks.
Take wood from the room before it burns
and smoke reveals our present chromosome.
Reposition. Reuptake gamma. Back from where
vibrant ships and territories did not reject
claims of ownership. Be calm in the bathroom
stall loading bullets into a rifle. Be calm with
every pore, gray hair, wilted fold of skin. No
end to migration. No end to epochs of syntax
errors. Migrations entwine weapons of
circumstance. Pour acid on fossil skeletons to
discourage them. An obsolete god is
repurposed and given a color. Mold its hair
from clay and fire it in a kiln. Name it after a
constellation and prop it up wearing an aegis.
Feed it images of extinct fruits. Take your
pulse, sum the diameter of each vein and that
is your flood. Shoot the rifle indoors and aim
for patterns. Shoot blanks to frighten with
echoes. Shoot live rounds to secure a place
on the trophy mantle. Bronze caricatures,
bronzed deities. Blood flow has kinetics with
each cell that ricochets. Claire proudly served
and said her cell walls had more density than
the brigade. They made fun of her and called
her Big Celled Claire. Suggested acids for her
plasma. “Just shoot the harassers and return
to the ship.” Can’t send the reply. Stuck here,
no mantle, no crust, no tectonics. Found aging
and obsolete Lagrange points. Again and again.
Leave the stall, return to the stall. Trace the
origins of a public miscarriage in the next stall.
The fire sprinklers could turn on and spray
acids down. It will eliminate trace evidence,
dispatch pigment, dermis, muscle tissue,
bones and marrow. Shield efficient systems,
discharge what is rumor. Stroke imitations of
the Holiest of Ghosts. Hesitate in the stall again
and wipe off the trigger. No going home, no
more replies sent to sentient forms or
elaborating on crude manipulations of the self.
No outcome.

Propose working the soup line. Propose handing
out toys. Put on his cargo shorts: the ventriloquist
speaks in fatwas. Scroll the tendon up and down.
He’ll know where to run. Take a ladel for tomato
soup. Cut in line and dash deeper into their breaths.
Put the family cargo into his pockets. Find a
border to claim. Take his temperature right now.
Hittites forged the iron in weathervanes. Pray
for mountain prey. Lay down with sidewalks under
lake Roosevelt pepper spray. He likes it there
in Cascade snow. With less sustenance underwater.
In a tree, hollow: silent lightning. On park bench
residue. Driving along Snow Skull. Flip pinball
machine paddles in Union templates. Form
ironworker cabals eating from TV dinner trays.
Retract from wet sneakers. Realistic serpents are
pets sensing Cola and dividing shells for bronzing.
Horse shoe trophies on atrophied meat. Scroll the
tendon up and down. Use your mouse to click on
all the pieces. Drag and drop them into the Recycle
Bin. The condensation on a ligament is bleak
Templar nibs. Juice the baker’s balsa of wooden
hurricane eaves. Fly! We call solar winds to the
foundation. Ouija me, Ouija 1932 and Coulee
Dam’s water for the overheating radiator. Gain
mass: one trait is wind, another trades its diving
bell for a torso. All the fruits are lost in inventory
and the soil conjures Rapture. Number the painted
numbers on stained wallpaper. Cover up Cascade
equestrian death. Make the dead child a prize: he
can blow up again! He can walk around before he
blows up. He can be re-uploaded. Lifelike: returns
Pop The Pill. Please juice what you can from new
involuntary fruits, terrestrial explanations.

Try not to live forever, there is no attic
space left for preservation. Everything will
burn and be swept into strata. Try
to locate the patio we died on. Try to never
become much more than anonymous. We
will spit onto lattice and swallow gauze
lozenges. I traded Persian clathrates for
open fissures on gulf ocean bottoms. Tell me
where your Agartha resides. Where is its
ferrous plantation working? This
candidate planet’s tectonic plates tow
ashes and overgrowth under. Lifeboats are in
the shape of caraway and dissolve in urban
chlorine. There are too many already dead.
Try to recall their lives with more precision
than blurs on the Richter. Can’t. With
goldenrod flax and poxes peeling warm–
I am anonymous in my skinning and taxiing,
my pearl revolving habitations. Resuscitate
the baleen of code cadaver curtains. Swim up
wide drainage ditches with a corpuscle named
Claire. Plant me and grow boneset on many
angled perimeters. Cube me and take my
volume. Cut me in half and point to the
constellation we all came from. All of this
will reduce for geologic heat to lace pipes
with crude. Bite. Price the refining: when
wearing a corset she must still believe in
gravity. Someone’s intifada is infecting a
fallow prom and we won’t be able to sew
our crops shut. Our happy warriors, bless
them with oil and saliva. Push back the top
layers of silt and point to the constellation
we all came from. Incisors open a roof from
above and locate a box holding us. We tear
away from an older galaxy inside. Our x-rays
are in the woodwork and load bearing walls.
Identify by shape and pattern the star system
our earliest wilderness boiled on. Form the
murk of swallowed capsule pine and red
photonic swing sets. Recover me. There is a
polite time to call west: “We’re already dead
and don’t remember where the fuck we came
from.” Where did the roast we ate feed and
reproduce before slaughter? We played with it.
Speak quiet grasses living in decomposition.
There are new constellations forming inside
our composts out back. Connect blemishes on
a corpse with indigo. Stab one final time into
its calm age before shipping out for the night.

Live forever. The ascendency to hiatus and Myrrh
sunflower. Helianthus annuus to many parts of
daylight tropic, native to rot under small double
suns. We felt multiple Hebron lines of salt too late.
Embryo genesis has abundant protein and calls to
the harmonic: white burrs, green and red pools.
Husks exude light pearls, ferrous skeleton. In a
different saltwater tide: train the collapsible body
to liquefy and merge with albumin. Train the
ligaments to bend forever. Train rabbit cirrus to
hop back into the diamond card. Wind, antennas
angle maize in a cutting field viewed from above.
Where is the obligatory heredity a desire will fill
stomachs from? Search. Nervous rat and nature’s
spore finds a new method of producing stainless
steel. Heat shock proteins litter a deck and we’ll
whisper motility for native flowers. Immune to
burning but not immune to stinging. Hail the cab
in an atmosphere above futility. Ankyrin and
citrate-lyase gene, my last new planet cheating
gardening ”for real”. Recall Apeteaa 1 and 3 for
emerald fire and plead, plead for white fur. Will
there be white fists knocking on cupboards
refrigerating germination? Small binding cassettes
of sub-family G for growth, perfect emblems of
descending family lineage. Render roots on ponds,
abundant cholesterol to collect and smear along
stems of our own chest percussion. Where is the
heart now to exchange for bile? Pry sodium lines
from gamma channels and acetylene conclusions.
Quake in fibrous nuance, tune to inhibiting. Delta
wing antifreeze is mirror image mechanics of
pseudo-American flowers. Enable the rot of
opposite demise. Rome receptors collapse in
argon. Hydro-resuscitation settles in a second
human signal. Promote minimally and disguise
the sun. Associate a muse with found human
remains and newly formed ice cataracts.
Photogenic rats claw at their mirrors. Plate the
dinner with three sun Nativity. Ice the stinging,
break off an isotope from boxed will.

The Ghost of France creates its own weather. I
stirred a belly of phosphorescent fish and hoped to be
there to witness the storms. Buy: Potassium Nitrate,
Charcoal powder, Sulfur powder. There is a wooden
crate with the residue of weather. When little brothers
awake they’ll have a taste for futurist storms. Play
dead for them, Ghost. Play the snake’s length as it
turns a corner and slides down the stairs. I stood around
the corner with an axe and waited for it to come out.
Chopped its head off: chopped it down to smaller
lengths. Each discharged a firework that could be opened
and emptied into weather. Build the mixture stronger, add
haste. Add leather belt, add backpack. Add Velcro to
the shoulder blades. My brother’s dreams are waking
and coming true. He won’t need his hair any longer, nor
his skin. No need for reading glasses or a crucifix. Just
strong powders lashed to a belt and strapped over his
shoulders. Pose in the mirror: recite one last time. What
did the Ghost of France do for anyone? What did anyone
do for the Ghost? Let the Ghost lead the way through
whispers of crowded people. They are too tall and too
many for a boy to see through. Push between their arms
and briefcases. You’re getting warmer– almost
burning now. Stop– set the Ghost free here, let it
exit freely. Let it slip out of control into the dreams of
others. Grow up doing this: one flash, multitudes of flesh.