My head pops off & this is where it dawns
to float & collect over nectar floors:
suffocating under self-spun honey
to conclude polluting smoky vertical combs: again:
stinging stinging stung by empty
sheets' regurgitating flare gun.
I tried to send
I'll try again demain
after the glass magnifies the basic truth:
the magic center thrives in burning space.
Abstract accident soarings
wheeled free, now stroll
strangling boulevards of unquiet obliques &
carefully tended poppy beds.
Knocked out: wake:
vomit disease & royal spectacle
gritty here in the throat.
All we are permitted is to choke
on droning misdirections that
build a new
swarming far & wide
open to the public
dressed so nervously:
gaze on those eyes cloudy
with paint & blackened equilibria
below blue skies on sticky ground.