Let's Talk About Bones

Let’s talk about bones and ghosts and psychopaths. Slurred words of hysterical henna. I feel incessant as a revulsion. The humidity has blurred my glasses. But not my thinking. That’s still walking out there to squeeze something, an idea or a sunflower awakening the sun. Bed always feels wonderful. The molasses one day wanted to be a stone and so moved very slow. I see a fierce blaze in your eyes as you read this. Blood walks around in a bag of skin insisting on incense and I say go, tell it on the nails and gape at the ruins of humanity. The first thing I remember was a colossal flash. And I saw a flea follow its destiny. So go, go slowly in a hurry. Go damp and humble as a kitchen rag. Contour is the art of shape. I’ve just escaped from a bikini colony. Last night I dreamed of farms and roadside attractions and went into a bar to have some fun and marveled at my fingers and how handy they were especially when opposed by a thumb. I like the ferocity of mint. This city is rotten to the core. Whose idea of Peru is emotional as an underworld? Whenever I see a box open I run for cover. Hope was the one demon that didn’t make it out of Pandora’s box. This is why to this day apples dwell in trees and when a mouth pushes a sentence out it hurts the proverb, the one about marks on the wall and the ocean of longing chained to my heart. All our hearts. The overall situation is oval. It won’t hurt to sip what can be gulped or to gulp what can be sipped. The snow is falling on a man with a weak pulse. And just yesterday it was raining knives and machinery. How do you insinuate a protest? You remind me of a map. Crows lift themselves into flight and I got a job chewing Ritz crackers. I’m glad to meet you please please me and surrender to the gasoline of yourself. Convulse like chaos. There you go. It’s hard to get to know people in a dance club. I’m taking myself outside if it's visceral enough. I see a vividness I’ve never seen before trickling through the subtext. The sails are filing with wind and the words are filling with meaning and the beards are held together by copper wire. I’ve got an appetite for space. Dignity is a social invention, like strangers on a train, or time enclosed in a book on a plane for banished lovers. We must evacuate this gauze one day and go for a length of tinfoil. I serve a sanguine purpose. My arm clangs like an alarm clock. My engine starts and I let it idle. It’s a process. I’m as perplexed as you with human consciousness. My chest is full of infinity. Ever feel like that? Like rain in California. Welts all over the prophecy. To befriend is to be friendly. Shirring means to gather. Blisters mean nothing they can’t concede to the whisper of cypress in the bayou, or the gater dreaming meat.