dead on wheels
that spin like cranks and run like gerbils
back and shoulder bubbles
sporatically flit
between my spindly muscles
 
my tired mind won’t care
when the monkeys make
origami of my flesh
 
because it’s all right when I am strung
from trees if I am
stirred by banana odors
 
and you begin to understand
everything, one everything,
your world is great unknown
 
the places I think I’ll never go
are, in fact, where I have already
been; to lie among the hornbake
pages of my Occupied mind
and feel dirty by the
children’s books
 
the snake's walk home
a lucky strike
two other hands
a jelly pantomime
we’re pretty sand
 
what trumps the rat maze we won’t note
when teachers hand us smart-like things
is growing stalks of childish wonder
when strangers hand us beans
 
there we can, tethered and lone,

by and by arrive at our answers
one by one eat away cares
side by side with green giants
smoke our own illusory screens
please -exhale- enjoy

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Illiterate
82 S. Broadway
Denver, Colorado 80209