Looking Out

it has something to do with the mirror and
bathroom and every time, when in there, picking at skin to
somehow equate to whatever calls forward to behave

zoological upon the anatomically correct strangeness of
skin-type—what grocery store magazines can’t portray, they wouldn’t get
money, the theory goes, of course there are alternative types and

underground locations which hold many values and modes of
being, unicorns, what if—
dragons were real but went extinct and are now considered mythical-beasts

but we simply haven’t found their bones, or
they were destroyed a couple of ice ages back—
the grease stain on the stove top has now finally been kitchen-sponged away

and his toilet seat is more clean than ever, and you
bet is an expression many people use, which is
hard to understand considering casinos are at Black Hawk

not down here at the edge of the foothills in the brain of a praying mantis
still on the side of a brick building, the same brick building of the previous
café mentioned within a different restraining order, similar to this

kind of appointment for forming constellations around crowds
of what can or cannot become seen or scenic to crows
because affirmation is predicated upon the individual and what kind of stone

he or she or it
might be standing on, looking
out from the hole in the ozone

or not

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