Confronted by the stern sign of the stars
Their intractable blaring shining
Eric rode a red animal
To the reservoir. His friend
Was the reservoir. He
Referred to rope-lights
In a strained bunch
As if at
No point
Tomb

Tune
Pawn nail
At infant ands
Strengthened inside
Lights grope to remove
His friend, the reservoir,
A red animal, a growp
A grow-up, told him “Eric, hold
My hair and you won’t fall when I go
Fast as the all-cold signs of the all-cold stars.”

An awkward sort of
Resting on a pillow sort of
Lavender left-overs from somebody’s fun sort of
dust-devils of smeared chilled sort of

a branch off a branch of bleeding sort of
a snail shot from a cannon trailing sort of
a lingerie of error round an after-image sort of
a vermicelli rubber shadow squishing sort of

This is not the land of tree-trunk pants
This is the padded interior
exteriorized, sort of skin-flaps
pinned in place by skinny push-pins sort of

This is the land of tree-trunk truthful
Biopsy sort of
Fantasy is a spare organ;
on the slide where its recumbent jellies gum their snacks sort of

The Frog-prince cloud
Plundered the lip
of the sealed

Whiskers of sunset limping
to the bottom of the
under-brain the split

Dynasties of hemispheres
Certain speckled
brain-tags warble

a claim of sense
as we would claim
insurance reimbursement

the rowdy gaseous
Frog-prince
Plunderlip the Sealed

Spills
segmentation
through the seized

The ability to form patterns
has its momentary
disadvantages
such as when monsters

the retina has
a bark or carapace
of tiny scratches
or smudges on it,

such as when light
or swords of floating dust
or fingers seeking
dryness itches

out of a bark
a carapace
of unintending
places to hang thoughts

unintended
faces
form
scratched