faulty fingers lead to risky hands
break apart the noise on the horizon
the wail of metal neighborhood expands
and contracts opens legs like scissors

there's this dream i'm in it's always
her birthday there i'm always moving furniture
out of my eyelids into the drawing room
menacing shag carpet drank some bad fuel

utopian nausea in our headlights stains
stains the bedding an out of sorts expression
pudding stains the bedding struggling releasing
i'd rather be ahead of me in several places