My bathroom remains the only place I'm ever naked Smashing soap into my hands each morning, the shower throat all belching there behind me, bloated with my shedded skin. Good riddance One son restroom away, my blinds clench up on the California sun, setting fire to the dust and possibly day pull on my apartment and I A genuine fear as to where all this sleeping leads has got you thinking thin about what you would and wouldn't do to survive You would not dig for a fresh wet wishbone in a still kicking chicken chest You would not dissolve small slices of unraveled arm under your tongue You'd maybe k** the power to your hand, but that's about it Really, you know The razor for your face cannot cut kids from your male animal abdomen You were not born the moment your stomach was finished Your one wing plucked eyes half filled And wild yolk like so sliced into a since So I ask you, have you ever really had a hand fall off? or found your mailman in your home, eating one of your new poems, holding a knife to your bills Half swallow the scream, you can't cut, and still keep all the juice in that half opened up arm By tightening the ropes of your digital watch You will grow no ghost to leave this angst to And this no ghost will wear no locket for the safe keeping of your fear To dangle like a heart So it may forever hear the gulping throats of all your sloping drops of blood Like this was something beautiful, when compared to your red skeleton You've asked nicely for your arm back Except And everytime the sun leaves you alone on a far curve of the planet, you think you can feel the whole slung six pounds of cartoon heart And all its iron tugging d** towards it