smeared hands, smeared lips. trash in piles around. a garbage truck full of horseshit. a hand comes down. once. twice. the ascetic countryside. tension exploding from the south room. elephantasia. remedy? explanation then, at the very least. fill me with fleas. tar tracks in the courtyard. smatterings of conversations carried up. pistol-points pop skull shapes. directionless wind. tickling.

foxfires burn sharp. deep. swamplights lead travellers astray. wisp sharp dew dry. dowries bought and sold in the moonlight. apoplexy. injuries old and deep. months old miasma. tires that grip and spin in the rain. manhattan measured out in a solo set of little footsteps.

tinkling traffic lights. bells swinging. deft anglings across streets. the dark times. and you love them. you sweep your arms around and through them. you arch your back to feel the skin burn. you drop to your knees in apoplexy. warm wet cooling rage. and rain. shining sickly, slickly, sticky. feet bones road. rats through vents. tunnels to connect back to you. tingling.

volleys from both sides now: terrors at times. fixated. fighting. tired legs clanking behind. boarded windows in the french countryside. tired men with wars still going. not common. come across. begotten. loveless. time wire. spooling out in the streets. connecting me to meaning. meetings. brief flashes of life in brushed arms on the subway.

river lights. doesn’t matter that i can’t see them. they can see me. spinning. spooling out in the streets.