Dear Nighttime

harping trees
swinging on
swing sets
holes into
airways
no one interrupts

tonight
ladder climate
control room
someone says

please

pass peanut sauce slime mold grow old decay early on museum old folks
song
chimney sweep factory caution cat of the membrane meters only club
cameo and I do

which is why these seated
pleasantries roll their eyes in the
marble casket
with
pens poking from
dead guy’s jacket
at the drip in the ceiling

what’s that
a dog says
at it sniffs
pant leg
of the dead man

who no one knows how to talk about

shouting through a megaphone
rooms
congeal against rains
of
rice
patty
laters
squeeze faceless
out of graffiti city wall
sunrise
pigeons
fly
San Fran

in rear a view mirror
clock
TV
off
he’s asleep

thank goodness
finally

stars to myself
moon
crater
yellow to dim
rained till it rained
and

exhales exit
from cranium
broadcast
three dimensional
movies
to

ant hills
who sip coffee
day and night the
haunted
laser eye
holes in the heads of
of all

wiggle wiggle wet willy not again, because
without these slides
photographically Antarctica
would have died
long before
light could
define a fixture of the
eyebrow in the newspaper
right there
where
we can’t help but stare at ladies, body parts

anyway
the scale isn’t a problem
but I forget to take blood pressure

these memories will fade
and that’s the sphere in the
casket
no one
can mention
its carnelian
color
as it
rolls from
flower top
shop out of the street
of its miraculous
reflection
in the palm of a sewer drain
without
embalming fluid
drippage

this time

milk whales
pea the bucket
harpoon
glint but
instead of believe these things
deja vu

orange maroon
glitter
Siamese cat
karate kick
and it swirls
out of the sink

here it is

eye of a glass
mannequin
who stares with
its good
unblinking one
at passer byes

hello there and hello there

everyone has turned into
tree stumps
roasting over an
open fire
it’s July

splat
on the window
shelf again with
all that mucus
we can’t help
those people
downstairs
sneezing their china
out of their Japanese
remember case
workers
for the love
of a folder
with all
paperwork
name brand
and poked with
a branding
iron
hook

watching them make glass in Santa Fe

hello

things
the
the ing

which
unroll as they

remember

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