Sleep is

an eternal succession

of secluded shadows

harboring overflowing

shitholes and empty

showers…

this life is an

endless fountain,

a breathing bellow

beneath a babbling

mountain…

I long to rest

in the cracks

of a Topekean

river,

A place so

magnetic we can

cry, scream,

and shiver

and there

dream sparingly

of neurotic

bridges

and drown out

every sorrow

and every

foul dispelment

long buried under

pneumatic ridges…