The need to dust the words. To explain and draw.
A book titled How Do Birds Know How to Build a Nest?
A dental appointment. You forgot it. Maybe your teeth
were supposed to remember. The film you want.
Is Full Superia 400. You think maybe these train cars are disjointed
thoughts like a missed dental appointment in meth and its aftermath.
I guess. That makes this poem by default. The bank is coming, mad.
Infinite regress regret like a highway. A really deserted
piece of ass backseat leopard stretch of highway. It glows green at night.
Over the giant fiberglass ice cream cone that lights up. After everyone leaves.
And where a U.F.O. Only ever. Came again once. Looking for you.
