bone scrapes twisting
joints in motion
while fleshy eyeballs
sink further into sockets
watch watch
hear the soft tick of the pen
rubbing against malleable tissue
sponge pushing further into itself
burning and fleeing and faltering
imagine what could be next
then it is
bones bound together by xanthan gum
then blended on high to tighten the noose hanging
loosely over the top of a s coat rack made of sprained ankles and broken bones
of skateboarders riding haphazardly through cyberpunk dumps
of old cities meant to be cleaned in a cleansing that was never well funded
and call peacekeeping at best
for no other reason than to keep remnant bones made of xanthan gum from deteriorating
Fred Aiken Writing 