Clayton COUCH
*Oneiromancy*
may I shake a lot of these buildings rain there it drops
and ending while teeth shed saliva strapped in window
treatment the running of debt facets and relegate the sun
a shingle peels away around a conversation about petroleum
who will pay a state of being tepid and brackish inversion
consolidation of glass piles an obliteration of allusive friends
blame the shirt the stars and stripes and a honeymoon
trip of biology where convicts mouth out cuts and bruises
symbol of infinity bejeweled against a worn broom needle
a bubble resold in the midst of electing myself surgeon
to teach while breaking arms and legs is a kind religion
flustered and left dead I voted against cadaverous grins
the bones that poked soil up above the legal sea level
parallelograms burned into the skin and sensitizing shouts
where you can hear what loses itself in silence in sapien
*You're Being Manipulated*
So we. It's in that water's interest. The moon disposes. When sun wanders, all who died yesterday exhale. As reader of linear texts, the magician decided against having an ending to the trick. Thus, it's ever-expanding.
Sometimes, it's nice to hear static. If the radio played my thoughts, we could call it a day. At the end of the month, I can hear my voice muttering lines across a dirty chalkboard. It's not connected.
Came wrapped in plastic bags. Came undone in the back seat, packed in amongst the papers. Fog on the rear window. Eyes almost obscured. The best things in life end up on trucks.
There, where the poison sumac affected your eyesight. The blisters prevented my voter registration card from slipping into the fire, or should I say, I rubbed the card and passed it along to my neighbor, the neighbor who votes with her teeth. It's a beautiful day in the library.
Studies creek in anticipation of seeing a water moccasin catch its own venom, but can't say where the shoes were tied. Beheadings are easier when the currents are strong. Toothpick dislodged, the hunt for tomorrow's breakfast is over.
Evidence. The candles burned out before the power rekindled, and we lost each other in the room's depths. Kissing occurred elsewhere. On the mantle, the clock ticked like dying ribs. I missed your ears.
Lately, it has been a struggle: bills scatter, work is whoring, and the mornings reassemble various mildews. What did you say? No, no metaphysical hernias to speak of, but I did contort myself with Deleuze and Guattari in the gym yesterday. Yes, yes I think I'd like that. Would you hold on?
*Committee*
Walk through it, and drive median into hiding.
Flustered lunch hour, and mix it up. Forehead
weakness. Salad days please the mistress.
Mistreatment (or falling all over you) shackled.
Sickle dependence on a new vein of inquiry
computers fluorescence and burns to talk.
What is this weak ache? A permeating funny
talk camped beside all good little children.
Such socially-secure fun conceals the pistol.
Where was this stunner when the lights went
out? To court filler in the boardroom cupholders:
the colder the order, the more we argue days.
If humid foes drink softness down or please
what's what, a discrete series angles towards
shore where the wood rots in demand. Up
against it, I could hear the music in the strife.
*Monday*
Morning comes up dull.
Shhh, I didn't wink once,
disposable banana-peel sun.
Litter box needs changing,
and I need a windexed
motivation; no grocery list.
Guarded against full sto-
machs and booms of house
construction out back.
What appears to smoke
in the tangles like brush-
fire? The engine melted her.
Southbound, the heat of rub
turns over. Blowout hearing-
aid sale suffers winners,
and droves of frogs sing
sleep, leap into crouch
just beside lit numbers.
All projections come here,
just because the elevator
left some paying customers
in the basement with back-
packs and cold feet. For-
mica really loved to whistle.
Yesterday, older stadiums
crushed under smoke, there
arose the noise of thousands
of intercom interference flows
busting out of tunnels. Runs
uphill with flowing algae-
tuft juncture. Walking fast
to pay the bills, let's lick
envelopes or gossip at tall
tables, and trick yourself
into letting out the full
brunt of potential alarms.