Thursday, February 19, 2015

my ghost's stream of consciousness

No playground shrieks, no sorting mulch.
No singing songs.
No jump rope strokes.

Dolls without eyes cannot be bothered.
Not once breathing.
Never watered.

Black light. 
Saline pleasure.
Phosphorescent sand dune dweller.
Cherish the desert.
Treasure the scamper.
Scorpions—they don’t get better.

Don’t tunnel anger—do what’s right.
Take your vitamins day or night!

Don’t give up the ghost; you can’t protest.
Calcified arms cannot transgress.

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