Buried up to our throat
Hard not to focus on digestion
Never you mind my sour brow
June creeps up like cranky warts and happy days
The world can be beautiful, weak and loud and pitiful
Driven mad by clever fools
Grease those needles up with blood to carry all tomorrow's drugs
Serviced by a shredded mouth, these poor, malnourished horseshoe crabs
The sweet out west is anti-pro
Disoriented by erosion
Timing's got to be imperfect
Brought a blowjob to a gunfight
We drool in wonder at how crippled blisters weep and we're still seeing trails
Swollen blind like heavy wool
Bleached by frostbite, clean you up
Magnificent, this bloated mess
The small intestine has been trashed
Hail and sleet to keep things grating
Stretch belief to fit the swelling
Work those terminal thighs
Shovel shave this icy walk, these plaster gods abuse the clock