I have returned / after
my roadside highway wire-cutter motel room autopsy
nervous breakdown model room display

crawling on hands and knees towards a state trooper
                                            in Ravensworth Shopping Centre, Springfield, VA

clutching my chest / lung(s)
mummy torpedo
jury disgusted
by CIA torture

I-495 RSO speedway cerebral
transmission breakdown / alternator
sniping breaths in the heart-core
chambers something over here stinks to, yes, pump the blood
stygian awakenings/ vegan bio-mass

Kenny vs Omega

I self-referee
elimination chamber

How is continuing the work of the text – how is that?
Death of
/ symbiotic options to copy and paste
             / like a whole world of consequences
to coagulate, user in a behemoth’s measure of
solitary bacchanal of self-depravity

a lemon
each morning

tetanus shot bulge attracting glaring eyes
a lonely road is always rough

so many endings in the bag / a new one to lengthen
elevator repair certification date / welcome
to maybe a different kind of elevator
‘How do you do?’ I ask laughing / at
the carpet inside
the Showboat lobby in Atlantic City
walking around the boardwalk is crazy

overturned beach surveillance booth
a backdrop of a suspended orb shooting 400 feet into the air over fried cheesy shrimp dough balls

by introducing fragments, incomplete
returning steadily pitching
dust like a beach wave

someone out of sight / pointed to trees

up against the ocean then
recited a lesson for beginners “How to

Swim” I fell out of it there, ended up
dousing my poor fat white saggy body
with corn chips, ouzo, marshmallow

either way—sink-or-swim—I drive on
deeper into the interior of the fucker
incomparable to how we breathe sometimes, lungs lined with wool catch
particulates broken free from esophageal chambers gathering

wet and incomprehensible, I am

Death is where I am, anyways, always returning to –
a clutched bundle of wax, tripping over paramilitary
flags and glass shards across from my dad’s grave

           where the run-off of motor oil drips down
           hill mixing with corpse-box gas emanations
           only here is where I can go to return to it, that
           moment where I am always returning, awake
           drifting in light or somnambulating in night
           like a cat curled/spiraled around a coffee tree

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