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Murrain

Uncertainty wears pants
made from banana peels.
I choked on a ridiculous
mint, called for my
binoculars and the soil
worked under the bar stool,
to cave a way under the weight
of my dangling feet. Drilled
the spinning all the way down
-down-deep-to-duped.
When you’ve been had
the way people tend to have
you, watch what strangers do
with their hands in a mutually un
-suspicious way. To make
two quarters spin at the same
time. This particular ghost-faith
allows for those dreams of yours
to haunt you on my behalf.
I gorge impatiently on health
makes me unhealthy. To eat
every county seed save the
suck of nut inside a dead
squirrel’s heart—hidden,
forgotten. Stunted rupture.
A man just came up to me
and told me his name was
John. I told him that was my
middle name. He said the key
to a happy marriage was to
follow the good. Now when
I think of the good I think of
a large, middle-aged, black man
named John singing uninhibitedly,
pridelessly or with nothing but,
every single word to “Jane
Says” by Jane’s Addiction. “At
fifty-three I do not seek it,
but I more than don’t care, I
will welcome the end of this life.”
To catch a passing train’s horn
in your throat. To use a word
is violence and I am a pile
of violence.
Posted 01/11/15
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