create a tunnel with body & excavate & root

Fur from underground tells us to remove our wool, our zippered necks, our hibernation. Ignore the ice seizured from the sky. Pretend not to see the purple clouds, twitching out poor circulation.

This is Spring.

Notice the root vegetables. The twirl of wheels against iron between bodies called bike ride. Notice the drip of petals falling then flying across city blocks. Notice exposure of ankles and slippery shoulders.

The roots are just toes pressing in to the autumn and cold that hide not so far beneath. Keep your fleece away. The night still shivers but pretend it into a whisper. There is green out there and it peeks out from the grey. Tulips like turmeric can aid away the wounds of winter. Call out the goose bumps on forearm as inspired breaths. The moon awaits your nude.

no words left but cold

All evening, The Body grew confused. Throat swelled into a shape difficult for swallowing. Imagine augmenting mouth to take in the height of the moon; its diameter is daunting. Prepare for sores to grow where lips tear. Tongue will grow spotted like endangered hunter, torn up from predator cells.

Voice got lost somewhere inside the wind. This hurricane is bony and battered. Its turned on by shrieks and the murmur of shredded roots. This is happening too quickly.

Nose remembers fuel forced inside it on those days all those years and when music came wrapped up in plastic, plates became square with liner notes. Oh there was red and blood burrowed inside tissues inside pockets and eyes lost their meaning and oh sleep hid in dresser drawers. Now nose is crowded and where is the exit sign and when cartilage crumbles what is left.

A human boils water flavored by vegetables, stolen from soil and alphabetized on grocery shelves. Human shaped as wo(man breathing out bits of masculine and indulging in the aroma of all of it feeds The Body slowly using chest as cutting board to lean against. Human inhales sick body cold body bloodstream of coughsniffcoughblowsniffsniffdrip. Behind every swallow is an orgasm or sensation of humbled skin shaking like an aged car part. Chills whisper all over Body and its temperature is winter’d summer or autumn’d spring what does it matter it is moody.

Sip up the powders and pills and medicinal suppers meant to induce drowsiness and memory loss. This Body is barely breathing but when it does oh it kind of sounds like tire wheels or asthmatic paper.

No words no words no words no words but it is cold here but it is lonely in this Body covered in spasms and fatty disease. What is the complaint. What is there to inhale that has not been experimented on. What is the necessity to take in earth when all that is left is contagion.