Doctors....your scalpel is steely...

skeletons the structure of relationships
like distant gestures of solemn glass

only a cold kafka knows
keeping snails happy
occasioning containers
my brains not on
grace
this back and forth

stocky and muscular
they staged their present with their bloody
fullgrown female inside a translucent barrel
what a thing to collect

resembling arms and legs
our davinci riddled femur
a gigantic edifice of old pigs
recalls our split decisions in vanilla
raped by an inflatable organism
lint this strange epiphany of blind feet
sound overlaps the ghost in the machine

the leaf, the landlady, her orgy in the tub
by dropping insects into paperboard containers rejecting her ricky tick

***

professor would pause at the bedside
of each patient
long enough to question him
every image is a colonization of shadows
a conjectural character of medicine
a dissappearance of enthusiasts

congestion of the viscera and of the blood
our doctor
and the moment of truth too late

a fundamental isomorphism of the structure
deafening through multiplication the origin

a mechanical consequence of irritation
the double layer thrust into

interrupted by death
our roses or their cake

***

wooden chicken with wheelbarrow
attempts to stop the hemmorhage

with a bronze baby spoon shaped like a gun
scared of large horses or biting mouths

confederate generals are playing cards
postulating a primary narcissism

silver spoon with mirror frame
"i am afraid of horses, afraid of being bitten"

at least we both know how shitty the world is
the unending hysterics, a real depravation of the breast

streaming body, a red door to the symphony
does not hold to the mimetic and orgiastic catharsis of aristotle

donald duck on a rocking horse
what do want children for, what do you want mental development,
is your wife giving birth to a baby?