trash songs

the apartment radiators finally ceased hissing revealed the jury of shadows streetlight pouring in like jewels from the north and the south

did you know about this? the challenges darkness issues upon its kind from other petty angles?

Finally! Proof that the war never ceased even if my strength recovered.

they’ll make you honest

confrontational

with your dangers your demons

if you fail

what else is there to do

because you’ve failed

at the last thing that could

possibly

matter.

so you should go back

and try

the whole

as we hoped the patterns underneath our forehead deskin reform a reckoning un-design

we shriek we have a chorus our song became too much for the frail chains body laid out over air insurrection of all other narrative

do you revolve and restorm?

do you restorm?

do you breathe storm? how do we fight the fires attach to no surgic a new sense the eight that you know of  (though you know, only six had worked: balanc

trying to not die trying to not die tryging ti ot die trying to not die trying tot not die tryingto not die tryinging to not die tryingt to not die trying to not die trying to not trying t o trying not to trying not trying

sruvvial survival survival

red splashed tu(  .  )lip green costed stem                                 and chlorine blue floors

Bird Glove

Bird never said much Glove was chatty as fuck Bird Glove was somewhere between. Glove Bird? Fuck that. Nonsense. Absurd Ridicikulous. Glove Bird implies that Glove came first and only Bird was number one. Glove Bird has no need to exist. But Bird Glove sings garbage songs about Corona Lite. Bird Glove suffers their own note starvation by denying their hunger. Bird Glove ain’t got a lotta love to give left, but they got cotton candy and candy floss depending on whether Bird or Glove started.

Bird Glove’s index finger purged of helium and scope merely popped in the conglomerate position; that is, it moved to the middle finger and made obscene gestures by usurping the powers that lie within Bird Gloves untapped potential. It tapped the well whiskey and drew out rum. Simply how Bird Glove operated? No simpler matter.

Bird Glove? Not even a half hand. Where’d the name come from? The pigeon and winter hand covering of course. But why now? Why does Bird glove become exposed in this moment separate from any further indication of success? Well, because Bird Glove had to be seen, Bird Glove had to rip off their straits, petticoat, waist-jacket, powerfist, old Tamagotchi collection dangling from a key chain, the further ones in already dead from note starvation, and Bird Glove had to castrate themself to survive the prison they lived in. Bird Glove didn’t have a cage anymore. No, Bird Glove had a key and twenty doors in the dark room. Bird Glove stared each one down and moved towards each. Bird Glove wasn’t sure which to choose. So Bird Glove stood center and leaned slowly in all directions until Bird Glove tilted over to one side and couldn’t stand anymore. When Bird Glove chose a door, a different door opened. Fuck Bird Glove, the powers that be said. Fuck Bird Glove and that irrepressible will. Fuck Bird Glove and that self-loathing. Fuck you, Bird Glove for standing up with what you believe in. Fuck you, Bird Glove for making a choice. Fuck you bird glove.

When the capitals stoppped appearing, bird glove knew they were free. bird glove had heard of such things, but bird glove never held their breath because bird glove grew cynical and tired at points because such beautiful ideas can circle over bird glove’s head like vultures.

bird glove didn’t deal with that anymore though. bird glove spoke, bird glove was never as chatty as the people believed they should be, but bird glove’s tongue was always a little quiet. bird glove’s tongue knew bird glove’s secrets and knew bird glove to carry those secrets close to their heart, deeper in bird glove’s brain river.

Fuck you bird glove hear those lower case letters, bird glove? that’s a sign of disrespect, bird glove I’m disrespecting you, bird glove

bird glove doesn’t give a fuck about your disrespect anymore. bird glove gave up on that shit long ago, like they stopped drinking mountain dew and [redacted]. in fact, looking back, i’m sure Bird Glove would thank you for removing that loud B and that loud G and say that bird glove could be pronounced without respect because the name alone already defers respect and that loud B and that loud G merely denigrated bird glove’s better qualities: like bird gloves  garbage song. bird glove does not starve for notes anymore because bird glove realized that all songs are garbage songs and that the music, the beautiful pieces are only to taste.

bird glove’s name without the loud BG can be rearranged. bird glove can be glob verid bridge lov which is like bridge love but without the superfluous e, so bridge lov could argue that new name is more economical. bridge lov can be vigor bled the name of noble warriors from the edge of stars, where the scientists discovered that passions were no different from a human fever. where vigor bled met, swords were carved out of rose stems and only unsheathed to defend vigor bled sometimes twisted into roved glib which nobody particularly enjoyed, but roved glib wandered the twisting roads of ireland and spoke french and loved themself by themself, for they crafted puns into split second impulses.

and sometimes, when these anagrams burned themselves thin, roved glib or vigor bled could always return to being a safe old bird glove. bird glove could love themself when they could love everybody else.

antlers god deer      mutilated into arms

heaved from the water,               the ungulate bromeliad         lives and oms          but this is weakness in hairless flesh

dragon flew further burning feathers