gray fog underbelly sky feeling
like a kiss dispersed over timelines
that is to say , mist
!mystery, mapleleaves cusping the
pretense of purple
fragile as a high
veiny neurons veined with impressive
, dying
anyway i gotta go , , , work.
the new boss: oozing, with her slug-tongue
behind heavy doors: "these people don't work very hard."
she means, 'trust my good intentions
my power , over.'
no. i put her words in my pocket,
sticky with slime.
the old teacher: with her frazzled:
"that boy is from a nice family."
she means: 'that boy is docile , white
and I see his dad behind the corner
at Wells Fargo.'
no. i put her words in my pocket,
and they hulk like a plucked toad.
the dogged comrade: with his historical ears:
"I am the only one with the skills,
and furthermore I am the only one that will."
he means: 'democracy is beyond me,
sustainability a stump.'
no. i put his words in my pocket,
hostile as roadkill eyes
drenched by semis
and me: i tell you, "i feel heavy."
i mean: 'i'm roped in ideologies.
let's talk ourselves clean.'
, you know what i mean
so we empty our pockets.
cdzhouse 