Friday, December 13, 2019

Some Pile Theory 0098227


dreamed of an egg with a spine 
unsurprised at anything

the subletter’s lover
every night
at the only window
with a breeze

in protest 
I jerked off to revolution
to anything sharp

to dream logic adding up

caught onshore between
some fucking dude and
a shark sighting

I’m a puddle

wearing my eyeballs as earrings
being mad at gravity 
you said a cool thing about a puddle

jerking off
to contrast 
to harvesting ecstasy
from nothing

my marinated brain 
when we text about


the coiled weight 
the walls 

gray with
what still hangs around 

my podium, god
the pile
the ruin

laying it all down
the phone
the shield

the sword