a throat of dolls

yes, you manipulate frequencies
if solid mask this septic perdition

immense, you find follicles in
your blood. The stool pursues
his lips on its stepson. The mustard
turned orange.

a throat of dolls dying
in spackle is a game. You
lube the bullet with
your tongue. The rubber numbers.

are mostly phones, His
employment as a witness
to mysterious puzzles began
in a lumber yard. come, again,
childhood! photograph this breeze

as a seething of pills and grids!



=====


http://www.lewislacook.com/
NEW! Fort! Da! http://www.lewislacook.com/FortDa
ARCADIA: long poem serialized in the muse apprentice guild: http://www.muse-apprentice-guild.com/
http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/385/lewis_lacook.html


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