please ask me to
kill for you ask
me to imprint
each foot with the
ridges of my
best teeth ask me
to comb the clouds
into candy
for the joy of
toothless trash cans
throughout the land

as I write with one foot
stuck in dark mud the other

unresponsive for reasons
I can’t discover lights

flicker throughout the day I’m
more full of fewer thoughts with

air enough for me to ascend
the brilliant sharp mountain

I have kept my pockets empty for
I have kept my back straight against through

years of small work and I
see the check on its way

before I’ve ordered it’s my fault
I should have gotten here as soon as

the neighbors finished dancing
on our ceiling and the sky

changed to business casual blue so with
my knuckles sore I crack another nut

but what if one thought survives
somehow the pressure of space

as the small stones crawl from the sea
wall after the grey is gone

and we work into the overhyped
night sponsored by what you would rather

remember a castle visited
through a dream that always asks too much

such energy though these eyes still blurry

but the day begins early & takes the blame

for every flattened patch of fur on the highway

for the last two weeks and what do I know I

wasn’t there but you feel the flies surround

you & maybe we got off on the wrong

foot and maybe that’s all there is now

in the still heart of the great machine a

few sparks with dances to come and yes we

can agree that I use the word too often

but it’s still the right one for the job and

out in the forest it sniffs a mushroom

and moves on since the field guide’s at home and

doesn’t want to take any chances