I begin to consume myself through the air and my eyes,
stir a pulp of the world to drink and hold past long cool sounds.
To follow this path I should know the workings of evil and hunger.
This is a new breath come shaking my body, watch fruit fall and rot personally.
I hold hope in hand with my grand whole nada and nod delirium.
It will be some time before my lips drift apart for I am listening.
I must digest this field quickly as deep grey box cars pass full of sadeyed fury.
This is the deathly time happening but I’ve survived inside this skin and sex I wish to remove.
I could chew out my feathers and fall in good conscience, the same twister will care for me.
This is the morning with a marigold dawning of choice, fiery and pummeling first taste of the world.
I eat newspapers, six this week like biscuits in my coffee (quietly desperate and plain at 3am).
I have a world to become or I will pass by unburdened, naive as a kite. Sickly thinking, I could.
It is time to slit my sail and join the ocean before I reach the white sand shore.
I should become human before I think to join their fold.