I dream myself into a fact about god
How to heal
your sick
son: Wait
his whole life
to miss him
then don’t
In Ohio
we kill
our dead
Body
isn’t far
from boy
Silence skips my son like a letter
Mirror ain’t deep but mirror can hear my unclear twin
breathing
erased
ice
Scrape god from a sentence that god has read
Before I can name what eats me it eats me Rabies and roadkill are two gods away A dream sequence skips my brother’s death A frog howls its frogness to the totem mouth of grief Here is how to create a spider: Rub sand in your eye while your eye holds its breath No two gods are god The exploded foot of an angel The microphone left in hell
A lawnmower and a chainsaw while sharing insomnias make a quiet horse. I am not a tactile writer. God fills my son with sand.
I’m poor. I’m poor, too. All last week, the wrong year. I am alive. I’m sorry. I am not in the right place to touch god with plastic. Eat someone who knows the future. Don’t tap the animals.
cool when people are like Lulu isn't real publishing and then they are like my friend says I'm funny so I am offering instructional classes on how to be a comedian here's my paypal / rich white quarterbacks who couldn't take two seconds to believe in covid talking about the softening of society in response to another rich white quarterback who golfed like so hard with Trump shouldn't make my radar but when they do I'm like is it Thanksgiving yes yes it is / not afraid the clumsiness of expressing remote imperfections anyway glad some are allowed to go back to the most bare definition of home but some can't so be full but also be empty / I get drunk and say stuff like my brothers are strange and great and I could be a better father and I didn't need to be so distantly kind see what I mean anyway love your family and humanitarian pauses should last forever / should I believe amnesty international or celebrities asking for a friend whoops former friend / sorry I'm trying to distance myself from my writing by writing
Grief is sorrow with bones. I did things slowly, then. I could enter a room without an empty room knowing. I didn’t have kids and there they stayed listening to the hunger pains of drone operators. There are bodies death cannot experience. Being poor just means you’ll go up stairs that are hiding from stairs. Fuckers say weird stuff about whales.
None of us know how to move. We’ve been here since god went to get god. I see a stick and you a stick in the shape of a gun. In my first dream I’m a bird that can’t breathe and fly like that for years. It’s selfish. Some are kidlike. Even in size.
The silence is fake it’s that good
Rain writes to god mostly about skin A mirror traps a mirror Our proof is the same
kingsoftrain 