shod me
a rotten corn cob
with rusty bolts: made
me a crooked wood skull
bobbing the wostling coves
of a pustuling cast of lame
duck measurements of plaster,
stated to the white washed walls
where the cloudy light sinks in
and savors us, like succulent fleshlings:
chitlins, and snout, and sweetbread
with fava beans, served Hannibal style
on the cavernous fire like wine,
suffering the cracks of bells:
toting shells in yellow from the bay
where I stuff yards of trussle sails
into my eggshell bodice:
whale boning through my stays
makes me shed, like money
to a pickpocket boy
in a page cap, grappling for dickens
and strapping himself to a wheel,
spun round by the hand
of some mad heady
organic shit bag, passed out
on the front porch in a potted leaf plant:
roots clotted like dinosaur fossils
played the xylophone kids
all the way through
foodless dinner—
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