Sunday, 22 September 2013

breakfast drunk

we are liquid people
we are lying on the floor, trying to craft the day out of the ends of spider webs
we taste of elderberries and gin

the cars on the cobblestones make the whole flat shiver
the cuttings from the plants are taking root
the coffee the coffee the coffee

this an ode to drinking until the floor capsizes
this is nonsense
this is all I have to offer the world right now

quantum makeouts!
cowboys with quick leather boots!
you killed me first!

take out an insurance policy on dragonfly wings
and dream of wasps in your mouth
take me to the church

sometimes I forget I have a husband
and the whole world is foolish

sometimes I stay inside and photograph my bruises

sometimes I am on the floor
(I am on the floor now, and

my mouth is sandbanks and screws)
seven shades of topsy turvy

your mouth is mulch and chanterelles
you made me laugh

my afternoon is broken bears
my life, my day, my heart
is tipsy

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