animals made of bicycles a side dish of cyclones
noises of horses swishing the acorns with hooves
as broad as shovels the sides of their bodies grooved
the small eyes the millions of lime sodas a mile of row houses
the windows swallowed our eyeballs there were no stones
no slabs no syllables no labels just soft folds
little spools wrapped in thread the wooden dowels
the rabbit den full of tidbits collected through the cell phones
a hobby to whore around the runners of wood
slid down the staircase a staircase of cherry wood
a window to look at the dead woods it was winter
and the leaves left us alone with the river there in the center
of the valley left us alone with the verses of honey and flies
the words worked backwards and forwards they were always
there the words wouldn’t leave never his grunts became more
liberal the stuff of striving a football game in a warzone
we ate chocolate and shit in the endzone
the touchdowns of solid gold a hit for the fans to spin
on their razor blades the bald man was there on the bench
we approached from the back and left a pile of bread crumbs
along the curbs what was the meaning of the adventure
the books we bought in the parks along the way
there were birds but we didn’t notice them at the time
the sun was hot and i sat near a few old men
one without any legs chatting about caretakers
a monument in the middle of the square to the idea
of the death of the teeth in the mucus in the muscles
in the clam shell a booger we ate without thinking
of the grit the terror the juice that filled the glasses
transparent liquid in a transparent glass a glow called green
refreshing us i guess we believed it was true
a taxi driver with tight tires his teeth were floats in his mouth
his gums were radiating dental dams goddamn this is the fountain
of radiation dials the sled of elves the sieve of dead elms
you were there and saw the way the sunset on that civilization
it was crazy they were all chopping each other into soup
into stews strewn within the dinners of the mayans