April 19

by Chris Drew

i am evasive

the shut up tips communication fault

i am a scoundrel dream’s fur sweater
the purpose and less the righteousness of my words
aren’t valid
but dumb concrete

i am scalding

the milk hit with acid
into cheese

joyous occasional beast
bounding out ‘a fenced in yard
type focus
drained pool party head lice
isn’t it a mistake accepting...

i am:
doggone it

confiscate this lesion: my harm
on empty dead worlds i do not yield
on top of blankets i do not feel cold

they’ve corralled us ourselves
i am seeing it in cut grass and smoke smell

in brewing waste
minute by minute like

fresh air good,
the budding tree buzz
sure enough like this

and like this

:down the stairs flown
a few times
two at a times

and in justice roaming thoughts

crippling anxious bugs

handsome shade

i laid my little porcupine faceless crowded drowsiness into the day
and ruptured and sought out manliness
in corners that don’t exist right

furnace drugged blood engine
breaching
tendril little sewn in hypocrisy feeler
and found out

sulking away
bubbles
scrubbing uncleaned
wreathless xmas terrified thigh

let’s not forget

through evilness split little poke
of light