dry-cleaning

one peephole defines

i was the gerrymander 

before you linked antarctica to africa 

with scotch-tape 

and whispered sweet nothings to 

climate change. 

it couldn't hear you: your choice to prowl 

the leaves 

love lorn and deformed

by christian parents

he who has served will be serviced forever

more. 

he whose junk on the verge attracted 

bee columns with fidelity 

an artist incensed 

smoked 

and thoroughly ignored, 

two belles 

loving the hats and the accessories. 

i was in a rush to clear my throat

i said i love you, i said: excuse me, ma'm

there's a fish swimming towards you 

but the air here is warmer than out west. 

i judged tin, 

sleet was on the wind, 

crafty water slid beyond me 

and i was dry humping the dust devils

     ignorant bier 

    a fence 

a fence a fence a fence a fence a fence a fence 

^ see?

i push myself over it to be on the side of words 

which really string 

into fathomless depths 

irony, collusion, twins 

on the side 

of what is right, what is

a four letter words for hope

and you give me love. 

spit on my frown, 

it's not worth dry-cleaning my face anymore.