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Dream logic gets my sober companion drunk
Vomiting silver in the private beehive of our wagon
I went to the cemetery and played you a too-fast solo
Mud seeped in the ass of my off-black jeans
immobile on the morbid floor
I warmed it last night with a controlled bedroom burn
just to plainly sing a song you danced to maybe
Time tape loops when I come here, abducts me
even without crystal or crag
Gathering shells and birthday candles
I line them flush to you
Whispering love in skunk-hallowed territory
Poor me, but a possum only lives two years
Baby hyperventilating to his soothing music and cracked window
Trimming the crusts on my stories


It’s not cathartic crying on an exercise machine,
just a bright migraine I self-induce.

Bees in the gag now. Snotting into escrow.

Each day my face is unrecognizable to me,
making it hard to establish a cosmetic practice.

Tried to get into myself so much I locked me out.
Beautified, a draconian tag that needs to get low.

I die by the record and undie.
If the DJ plays my song I crown them queen.

If the DJ spots me in the crowd they know before I do
whether my mask is really this scary.


The monster lands in front of us
Amorphous smoke billowing
A face of swollen snow

Systematically habituated
To the specter’s liquidity
A story of offscreen fame

Genius is like this
The meaning in its kiss
Encrypted with broken desire

A soundalike for fantasy
Insufficiently perfect
Repeating the chain link

Telepathy’s in duplication
Touch the psychic body

No, like this


image: Tyler McAndrew