Whisper what you don't want to hear.
Slave the words with
matchbook passion.
Be the beginning.
Forget the ending.
Go forward in a tumbled red pen
sort of world.
Eradicate the obvious
and
accept the hinges just as they are.
Be for freedom, and so,
you can be as whipped
as you want to be.
Monsters live in the closets.
Monsters live on the streets.
Detours and signs,
signs and detours.
Doors closed.
Windows broken.
We cannot be the flags
of restless defeat.
Only in hot water do boiling leeches
make sense.
Jingle jangle envelopes and
slippery sliding stamps.
We run, and as we do,
our shoes bring us
back to
the
groaning lisp of messages
we'll never send.