THE INVEGA SUSTENNA CURE

IT ROTS IN ME /// SOUR AS BEER /// THE HIPPIE CURE /// THE DIRTY CURE /// IT BOILS WITHIN ME LIKE /// AN ACIDITY COMPLEX /// CANDYMAN SMILES /// HE ALSO ALWAYS SMILES /// AWAY /// BECAUSE MY BITE IS FADED /// LIKE THE PHOTOGRAPHS /// OURS ARE CRISP /// DOLLARS /// YOU WANT SOME /// SWALLOWING CHALK AGAIN EVERY DAY /// SPILLING FLOWER MANIA /// THE CHAINS MAKE NOISE AGAINST THE GROUND /// DREAMS OF SILVERFISH /// CROWDING AGAINST THE MIND /// WHERE WE ARE ABUSED /// BY PATTERNS INSTEAD OF AWED /// WHAT NUMBER IS MY CURE /// 234 /// IT ROTS IN ME /// SOUR AS BEER /// MY GHOST RAGES AGAINST /// WHAT IT CAN /// AND WHAT IT CAN’T /// GET ME DOWN TO SWEETNESS /// BUT MAKE IT BITTER /// FOR THE INVEGA SUSTENNA CURE /// IS STILL SWILLING IN MY CAVITY /// LIKE AN ASPARTAME SANDWICH /// SILLY AND CLAMMY /// WE CAN WORK WITH THIS /// BUT IT WON’T GET ME OR YOU /// VERY FAR /// IT ROTS IN ME /// SOUR AS BEER

when people see me and they just see the video of me

geronimo exits a wasteland in may

drum-line confiders wash like well-wishers

the goal of fourteen regulation fifa nets

is to be the goal. when verbatim checks

out you verbatim respond by “less is more,”

check up sunshine the dormitory moves

like a slipper on your dreaming toe

elegantly chum the wheeze

feel not weary in the droll

vanilla-grey skyline we put up

the feeders for the birds

the power of grace knows truth

like the little things that matter

to you in the hour of free energy

the line-up of windows

scour a true lip

in the sunrise

of tomorrow’s

sunrise