en-misting
over half way dead now
pushing my tongue against my teeth
at an ATM
withdrawing blue faces
to pay rent
to live in a shell with roach legs & rice bags
swallowing again
sixty percent water
& all I am is this thirst
a blood & bacteria pod
indulged in plastic
a kind of sentient junk
even the leaves sound like tap water
in wind i go with lavender lips
earth is the only planet in our solar system not named after a god
last night,
I wanted
to have sex
while tying
my shoes
at the bowling alley.
fuck, to be
a kid again:
sugary & full
of breezes.
to be
a thing
not easily
contained
by words.