A late squat

Feeds a lizard in utero
on its own joints and cartilage,
admits to it, as a shooter
sucks the bullet down its nose
on a haught of feeling hump
through another body itself a dump
of offal and syncope dizzy now
like standing from porcelain
or cheap ceramic too low
on a substance to forget,
wake up, repeat, repeat,
humming whole the day along
its route of shivers and cold
facial muscles twitch at each other
as if each were a man to
a woman sitting on a bypass
of her own swallow, too stoned,
on her shoulders a monkey
who’d throw her down and yawn.
Would wake up in a skein of grease
then fall asleep and keep asleep.

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~ by Jeremy on September 26, 2010.

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