when i am feeling strongly in the kitchen i have the feeling also of an image. a piano. piano props a rosewood curtain on its spindle revealing ribs in cages solid gold.
pile up to the larynx. stinking. i can taste each thing i forced down in a thick film on my teeth. spread the filthy kiss to fists. full and taking.
name the objects on the nightstand. cigarettes. the black book you wrote which i read and reread to keep you minded. alcohol. klonopin. dramamine. a plastic bag. a butcher knife and clots of hair around the toilet. a knot of drawn out breathing in the bed.
i once buried my head in enormous mound of fire ants. i waited for the ants eat my head.
a golden grid. a failed forest. a golden grid.
a golden grid.