Icicle mist

Negative energy flows out of a remote control towards a dark television set. Fingers bend backwards around stop signs. Stalks of corn bend their ears to the ground, listening. Giant fish swim backwards into the reflection of the sun on the water. Relatives come and go, their cars leaving tire tracks across our back yard. Television news anchors throw down their nets and swim out to where we are. Hundreds of losers come together to form a parade. Where we all take off our hats and wave them around. Each a different shade of red. Toenails curl into unicorn horns. Thieves give half of what they steal to the Church. Mistresses mix poison in empty shopping malls at midnight. Crowds storm the gates of Disneyland. Secret tunnels connect me to you. Ghosts line the hallway to congratulate us. Thin hands veiled in mist. The icicles of a life bound by gravity.