signs from a heap, chords around typewriters I sit here lilypad; take a jump and sprocket into places that aren't yet wistful: unyet made with unyet made bed frames and unyet made wallpaper inspiring unyet breathed out gaseous humanities, us planets made of toads and organised socketry.
shake your hands, I'm with gravity I might take up storey buildings and day over to mendicancy in frames remindent of somewhere you can knock to hear an echo.
sound little prints of heroes riding south on shadows mowing the grass
used saccharine contraptions, these fulls in mouth cavitying principles down boulevards of second hands ticking
and figures waking up clocks with a halving palm down on twelve, losing count of morning sidewalks
they tick over flavours of coffee on the register and sit as cups and spoons awaft they hope in whisks, plated soluble trajectories from ceramic lips to ceramic sequences inspired by busy nostrils.
irregular bubble wrap domes hived together adrift in sink empty swaps with the skin slipping off for the unfilled dotted line pencilled in by my brain mouth: change toothpaste, like change shampoo and have bald cells with toothy grips remain after day halves brushing. where dentures used to be, lacunae
slight lights peppering off in the paved of the road between the
painted silly rectangles ants get confused about following trails sneezed down by the hardy.
have a thought coiled around a filament holding on with its many fingernails
want to give it a back to stretch out onto and dot and number and then get the many little legs to feet a trail to be as quiet as possible on, in pursuit.
You can also find me on tumblr at http://hyphonowlet.tumblr.com/
Thank you for your presence and readership. And upon leaving, may you take a pocket of stillness with you, and a smile within, to share with everything.
