FLOWER-BOX IN THE OVERTON WINDOW

 

there’s a faerie in that flower and it’s perfectly obvious to me

I won’t be surprised if you don’t see, it’s been thirty-three years of this crap

fertilize as we say at the zonk league roll that vanna and land it like a legend

thankfully nowadays the weird witch is a brand and not even a budget brand at that

so if someone says charlatan I can say no bootleg fam just as advertised ask the plants

crystals hanging from everything and tetris my own art above herb-brushed countertops

my accumulating mind one crow bending tools for any fellow as destiny requests of me

the pizza box is empty and was empty yesterday, ah so, such is life

you’re such a pessimist you’d only find a four-leaf clover rhapsody in blue

one flower seems more like an accident than an archetype being frank

some of this is faulty memory and some darkened stairs with the lights gone out

italian ice in a box at my feet with a secret message be spoontaneous

which gave me the sense of fumbling for my keys in a horror movie and I wasn’t a fan

a caravan of merchant treasures and ancient action figures and one perfect spiderweb

counting stairs with a hand on the wall remembering which doors have rugs for tripping on

nobody asked if vault boy would stand near godzilla and it was honestly a little rude

closing my eyes and opening them and discovering no difference

our nightmares contain monsters but the monsters’ nightmares feature corporate scheduling

since I’ll only tolerate a bad ending when I already know it word for word

so I wrote my own story as a movie script and someone signed michael bay to direct

yeah and I will watch through my fingers because I need my own hand to remind me I’m real

swinging with the kicks and locks and looping backwards in a pencil figment

like some lines are too soft

like I can’t trust myself to sketch a circle