I am counting the spaces between here
and my bed.
A single fret made to be out of space,
dimensions in a frame.
Realms like {P1, P4, P19, P22}
This language does not belong,
But box springs still level me
cramming to embrace connections,
connections that may only be seen by satellites.
I'm closer to dandelions
7 floors up near the skyline,
letting Lord & Taylor kiss my eyes.
Horizontal
Compressed
Blessed,
I am folding my knees.
Fluorescent energy through thermal detecting goggles,
my burning eyelids makes my pupils a sauna,
and sweating pores release scandalous details of my dreams.
It is still early.
A scolding glue gun plasters my mouth shut.
Shut me up.
shut me up.
Build my Jenga blocks up to the ceiling,
then knock me down.
The carpet will carry me--
Drifting, drifting,
I do not feel subtraction signs,
this desk is more like a backdrop of grapefruits impersonating skies.
Self-division spares me while I travel but do not deliver.
Hamlet's conclusion smacks me,
Finally-my hand is raised.
Open up my Jackbox,
Now fill it with sound.
