Wind in a Palm of Sand

daylight cuts a hole
in the wall walks in
without permission castles fall from her

and splatter across the carpet
where I sit and nibble on a slice of yellow

holes in it appear

skin decays
before our eyes
looking down into a canyon

a cactus grows

lonely and old, who
hears its stories but the wind

window of the mouth of its
glass body


window of eyes
made of mosaic shepherds
drawing lines in sand
so as not to fall asleep


windows of an age old castle
mourning the wind in a palm of sand

through glint
for an opportunity to see
galaxies in an instant

speak to me

tell us the secrets
of a tongue
wrapped in barbwire

shot gunned
taken out back and made to disappear

tell us moments

belief was cut in half and
distributed across the globe

providing new eyes
and ears to people
who were blindfolded

conducting tests
to taste
for sugar content

tell us of the
bacteria found
alive but fried and whispering songs

in the event they were already dead
the underworld would be
able to recognize
frequencies of the tones they displayed

flowers still wet
with paint running down
the cheeks of a forest

eyes made of sun and moon

dolphins swim


their holes
are exhales
of what people need to know

if this remains a question
than sewer drains are not water and the
days shorten to surgery
limitations of height is this

a wheel of circus functions or a dial tone

minutes left on a
cell phone

caller id
working out a blueprint

details in a moment’s notice for the copier
who may or may not be real


shrug such considerations

they may contain poison
as advantages crawl against the wall, it’s
important to inhale limits
as they

vacate gravity from whale
bones rolled onto the surface of an ocean shore, currently
days of air
jet streams rotate across surface of the fish

bowl but if we
drop too much food, Goldilocks
and her door nails
will frame

giddy carrot
picking rabbits
when clearly liquid had been sprayed
for insects
conventions of
vitamin necessity can’t stop a
walrus party chirping celery at the dentist, but

if it could

the obsidian levels
would deplete and
could return
their hard covered
hearts to the library
doggedly interjecting
stripped fabric found off a wall

painted laws
jaw entangled
relaying information

format important
beneath all syllabic structure


beating with a diamond
teaching what happens when scenery breaks eyelids reliving
palm trees

from the plastic
they were incarcerated within
nostalgic encyclopedias
get up and walk on

leaving their children

better to abandon than
drag those briefcases into the
confines of



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