sun god

its very hard to speak when?

your mouth is full of light

open wide and say

I CANT SEE ANYTHING BECAUSE THE LIGHT COMES FROM ME AND IT HURTS LIKE PULLING OUT SPLINTERS

the dentist laughs and puts that thing in your mouth that sucks (a black hole)

then he mumbles

you’ve some nasty green aurora stuck in your front teeth 

he scraps with the scraping thing

you have some solar flares growing on your gums, but some bonjela should fix that up in no time 

he pauses, his hands still

and looks your wisdom teeth are about ready to pull out

he laughs to himself

its finally happening

all of you struggles and shines but hands come in their thousands/hold your mouth open

nobody cares if they are blind///he reaches inside///angles the man-made for leverage///pulls and there is a pop pop pop///you turn to burning other and they scream///the dentist pulling away with the prize of man///then suddenly they all leave and with them the light from your eyes

the rest of your teeth are afraid; they burrow back into your skull till they pop out the other side, and shine shine shine out the back of your mind.

the darkness is brimming

the darkness is so total

YOU SPIN AND SPIN LIKE A LIGHTHOUSE, TO BREAK IT WIDE OPEN

(AKA, a star)

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sun god

meat with beef: food/thought

meat sat with beef on the hill side

and spoke about dogs

he said in tones of grass and sky

they say that where we go to the place inside of what they call a ‘dog’ i see them in my dreams running like a tide of teeth and stomachs to sort through the little bits of ourselves

beef twisted his head and thought about this

beef thought a thought that he decided not to tell meat

meat continued

leaves us wondering what they do in with every little piece of the grey matter in the part of us that thinks about things like sky and grass and fences 

(there is also the tone and smell of a fence)

leaves us thinking thoughts like, is every thoughts that we have a little blade like snip snip of grass that starts to in tiny little moments strung together get taller and stretch till it dies and we forgets; are the dog stomachs really like our mouths how we munch at the little blades up high of grass (that touch the sky) ‘cept their stomachs they eats thoughts or the bits that think?

(there is the hotter tone shill and corrosive, a smell that burns red, of a fence)

beef thinks again, munching on green and staring at the sky

beef thinks about dogs (cause beef’s seen dogs) and thinks about how

the dog might even think about anything

meat speaks again

sometimes we tries to think about where all of the bits came from, but we don’t think we know…

meat lies back the ground disappearing to a sky pealing open like a can

there is a first thought that ever was and it was like this grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

beef stops chewing grass, doesn’t even think about what to say, just says

whats that?

meat answers

the mincing machine

(the tone and smell of the fence comes in waves of heat and static like wuuur wuuur wuuur)

meat with beef: food/thought

High Tide

it hurts doesn’t it

when the tide rises

surges at the back of your

throat

the roof of your mouth turns salty

all your words are shark teeth

and rusty hooks

so you sit with lock jaw in the bay

they press in with hands

they ask if you’re okay but

speech is always

dangerous here

you know you are

cannibal

so you shake like an addict

till your muscles lock jaw

and sometimes you thought it would be

better

sometimes you thought

you could live without this

everyone sits more distant,

reminds you that

‘you’ve been so well for so long’

but they only disappear.

eventually

high tide slides back down your throat,

sitting heavy as the ocean tends to be

in your stomach

fishing line loosens its tug on your ribs

you smooth yourself with sand

you remind your heart it doesn’t need to be

held in place

no matter how well pumice floats

your mother comes back from hospital

staring at your washed up eyes

she always misses the high tide

 

High Tide