Eyewash

My bathroom remains the only place I'm ever naked

Smashing soap into my hands each morning,

the shower throat all belching there behind me, bloated with my shedded skin. Good riddance

One son restroom away, my blinds clench up on the California sun,

setting fire to the dust and possibly day pull on my apartment and I

A genuine fear as to where all this sleeping leads has got you thinking thin about what you would and wouldn't do to survive

You would not dig for a fresh wet wishbone in a still kicking chicken chest

You would not dissolve small slices of unraveled arm under your tongue

You'd maybe kill the power to your hand, but that's about it

Really, you know

The razor for your face cannot cut kids from your male animal abdomen

You were not born the moment your stomach was finished

Your one wing plucked eyes half filled

And wild yolk like so sliced into a since

So I ask you,

have you ever really had a hand fall off?

or found your mailman in your home,

eating one of your new poems, holding a knife to your bills

Half swallow the scream, you can't cut,

and still keep all the juice in that half opened up arm

By tightening the ropes of your digital watch

You will grow no ghost to leave this angst to

And this no ghost will wear no locket for the safe keeping of your fear

To dangle like a heart

So it may forever hear the gulping throats

of all your sloping drops of blood

Like this was something beautiful,

when compared to your red skeleton

You've asked nicely for your arm back

Except

And everytime the sun leaves you alone on a far curve of the planet,

you think you can feel the whole slung six pounds of cartoon heart

And all its iron tugging drugs towards it