An apocalypse
of the mind
and the taste
of wintermint
chewing gum;
each chew was
like a paint brush
stroke, deserting
a thickness for
a better world,
for a better page
with no revelation
and no consideration
of a solitary source
of water.
A theory needs
only three days,
like the body in heat,
the body in reality,
so to speak.
The literalists
were calling
to each other,
six feet away,
on the ground,
pointing up
to a cloud-dispersing
sky.
There are no clouds,
only sun and blue.
Everyone's happy
because it's their
favorite, happy hue.
A castle rides down
a hill like a roller
coaster without..
Wings were attached,
but sustainability
is a beauty
that takes an hour
in front of the mirror
each morning.
And that same mirror
smiles when you
smear an upending
arch across it.
Carve a sideways
"D" into every object,
innate or not. Carve
a "you" and a "me,"
an "epilator" and
an "ice cream."
It's a shore thing.
Like licking sand -only
now the trumpet creeper
curdles.
A hand cannot save
a dying flower,
no matter no matter.
Density to
a decent degree: what
the "you" actually needs.
If "you" were only
a vine decorated
in pink floral. (where are all the seedlings?)
An apocalypse
of the mind,
so to speak.
