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smokehouse
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Bad poetry I still don't see what all the yelling is about. Just because
you can make your eyes look like marble doesn't mean
you can see through a bowl of water. Shimmering world
bent out of different shapes. An abattoir is a slaughterhouse.
An abalone is a gastropod. You can abbreviate a picture
with a color, and here we are, being green
floating through more important accounts like seaweed.
A bullet grown over with grass
screams in a sore voice
like we dream of becoming angels
they all want to be landmines
well even an abalone can be forgiven.
You're floating in a specific sunshine
and for you to glimmer so brightly something
somewhere must be burning.
