Amongst Mannerisms

expectations haunt
the chair I sit in and
if I knit closer to bone
marrow the program
can’t follow anymore
than anyone else I’m
close to

curfew cut through
wrinkle from gauntlet-growth sport
another quarter ground out to
purloin amongst mannerisms for

you

*

now this spot
has grown a trunk
is it too late

where abilities lose
mazes amongst a
world of

cutlet

made to bake
its folk

who folk
a dance and
drive the windows

apply
grease stain

or

am I wrong
about
times possibility

*

consider fingers
a bird chirp
a doorknob mailbox
car

remember
passport type of
eye glance

regardless of age
romantics depictions radio play
balls beach party umbrella

saw

see in half with a
eating
criteria chattering

it

into

pieces

dispersed
intestinal

gas

*

I don’t always
want to get up
in the morning but
it doesn’t mean
I want to die, really

*

telepathic
calls are real
can hear them

chip away
time with a tire

iron wedging
glass from brain
pieces of

pixel information
necessary for tongue to drive

down the road
as a cow moans a moon falls
out of its mouth

grab it before
the police—

justice has
many names

*

close my
tree
trunk
suburban
growing
house
eyelid
spread
access to passcode water
faucet on

*

fissure
delivers this
swordfish which
skips over a rumor of potential
useless blank space

most won’t attend knowing
a room may contain

junkmail
goes here

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