neither of us mad
we were merely preordained in a house of smells.
one ignorant. one pacifist.
we were limbs apart from sanity rehearsed.
I have seen your eyes through the hormones I possess
digging with my orange spade
your clumsy laugh as hollow as a tree
below the knee
this is where I find my vertigo
my well-to-do on death-row
in a state of mind as high as you a crab
tobacco brown. a spider in a tin
spinning white my ponys\' tail
too drunk to give a shit
now the black-veiled face of muscles paint my chin
take away these pains of pregnancy and ills.
I have never seen your arms make any sense.
we were both as one
both dead below the wrist.
it was only when the froth died
did I obtain a more organic view
and paint one million laughter lines
for family and friends to peek-a-boo!
which one the villain
village moth or city\'s butterfly?
you milked my goat
I kissed you dead and slept a week or so
living on the fat I sucked
flown in from China
crispy as a duck.
neither of us mad.
one down and one to go
I am face down with my beads of vertigo.
still I listen to your hair in a mothers frock.
one down and one to go
naked as a snail or polka dot;