stumped upon this ejection option
buttoned by the
best of this second, will

the parachute deploy,
dish-dropping sink

with its knives in there, they
don’t look too friendly,

hot tub later
that’s a hole in the closet,
ground troops swell in,

this is not a war,
says a policeman in an army jacket
possessing this body
inhabiting these thoughts

my name is Gordian
people who know incarnations’
leverage can speak to the distance
in such a claim, but
let’s take the pawn of a chess-game,

doesn’t matter what color,
any pawn will do, the pawn
of a street corner in the brain
that works justice with a wrench, and that
works fine for the fuel necessary in defining the outline
of what it is to silently talk
to you

so all may understand the kind of tired required to continually get up
and fall asleep each day

death reincarnating angels
just so that when they’re
finished with their blessings for the day

they become death again
broken left-lobe brain of the guy upstairs

in the palm of us all who reads these telephone pole wires for scrying purposes
learning how long one has left in time

till evaporation

momentary blips of non-theoretical this
lives in a moment


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