the rooms. (part
one)
took it apart, it
had nothing to
lose. the pile filled with punctuation,
hinges, hunger.
screwdriver in
hand
gray mass growing
brains flex & pipe up
give me the tools?
who is a house!
where is the room:
(what hallway
follows)
i was hung up, a
coat
hooked to a swinging door
past the burning
singing
some songs are
made of small fires
tumbling down tubes
and tunnels
swallowed with a caress on a throat
some songs are
deluges
some extinguish
some are off key
all songs are
safety measures
1.31.13
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