The Cactus-Panther

had already dragged a
bag of coupons in its jaws across the spaceship
as if a train was trailing between its legs, headed
for its carbon dioxide mouth, crying open, but not tearful
letting its dragged eyes become suction-cupped prayers
for the escaped windows as they skipped with
fangs of frustrated blinds trying to squeeze open sunlight
from the trachea of a crushed prune caught in the strangled
noise of a splashing sink and its porous, stained face
dangling diary pages from its effortless nostril hair
clamming apart dried blood from the
enriched adrenalin-sodium combustible nightgown of
despair; horror-housed in the fury-hinge, a
doorway mocked forty years in the same dog convulsive
hallway, whiffing the beast of dehydrated air,
the one with a scalp made of elevators and hands
trembling in the trill of sandpaper, the
thrill of which only resembled a locket hung
around the sudden neck of an amber-jeweled cockroach as
it roamed the jaws of tenacity in search for a fairy
godmother to confirm these undeclared claims as indeed verifiably legit
like a cat kneeling before its saucer
lapping up marked down prices on disabled coat racks
balancing chemical souvenirs with compostable plastic
Tupperware, committed to judging turkey stuffed, pan-fried, yolks
only when appropriate

so it sprang to the panther-cactus to jungle-juggle visits
as plain as blood is different than full-moon tuxedo drip,
laughing brick, the padded shoulders of a weight gaining
small insights
as they accumulated shocked predators into a big black hacking cough, and
according to survivors
targetable agreements numbed to sunken foot-paths of euphoric distillations;
smiling as it carried off its detached legs
to the nearest band of scissors carefully absorbing teeth
into its ear, ringing trophies until they drooped all over
my body


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