KEEP OUR MINDS
BUSY

raised by animals

the lights from the suburbs

bring a foreign affliction to our eyes

and the owners, walled in their houses

exhausted yet struggling to sleep 

none of their weather reports

mentions the oncoming ice 

brown

And in your dreams 

your skin is stuck to an iceberg

And all your favourite movie stars 

are summoning the ravenous birds 

brown 5000

I’m in the captain’s uniform

No longer something on the side of the road

I need the flight attendant

to spill coffee on my crotch

just to cool me down 

live with yourself

the widow looks out

at the homemade base of a decaying Tharsis 

where you were the mayor

and you were always the winner

Centring the pendulum 

of loves that sing

and ones gone with fever

the first to know of the birds 

lost in the pines 

or floating down the river 

chalk bones

When I hear your voice

I think of rats

drowning in the ocean

That tongue

thrashing behind those lard factory lips

could lay waste a city

tear a hole in it like a piece of white bread 

deep sleep

Today is the day

I leave this place

To stop any sort of return 

tell the manager

I imagined inheriting his life