the fascinating thing about


(things grow in there)
(it’s all very shush shush)

will you let me grow your insides ?
ever since i have laid spleens

accepting close accepting
chaos accepting

bangbang did it hot
almost pop

dress my spleen to
tip my teeth
take my hair to
cross the street

Now hold my fascinating slu,p
it crawls down your throat

I’d prefer if you recognize when
                                     it does so.

I’ve since managed to spread thick
vaseline over the section (my very own mucus)

I felt I should prove I can be quintessential
(I’m very shiny when I choose to be)

having dressed my favorite
spleen in yarn and pig
fibers -

moving in no apparent direction
(having not yet sat very still in a
room with no ledges) (not
knowing what that stops you

        Six Legsjust doing what they ought to

                                        a spleen (mine) demands repercussions from the state and/or the
                                        idea that the state can hold an (individual) (organ) accountable

aristotle, you motherfucker

am I not virtuous?
standing before you
holding my mush

(icky icky)

before out and almost entirely

a yummy green stump

[ socrates mentioned that was
very bright lipstick for a pig ]

                however clarice,
                respectfully declining

so thoroughly un-pig-like
some posthumous spleen
                         as she was

in her fake grass

felt the rash


what is and/ for what?

maintaining the same autonomy
as one of the 600 microscopic
flecks of grain making up 600
fine powdery pollens (they blow
in big 6-winds) scratchy


if we are not on top of the
hill screaming blood hounds

then I don’t know what we’re


if we are not all throat making
             (blood mounds)


or re-phrased;

if I am part of a bigger
philosophical agenda

          aka good pig

I like to imagine I maintain
some sort of relative right
to pig, you’ve been a very

if I am full belly
pig stuff (I believe so fully
I can’t find my mouth)

then I am already 30 swallows
too early and thus, by virtue,
entirely too late

not that I am estimating
or you,
with the ability to hold anything down

(we throw up so often)

but I find a simple reality in the up mess
it is a warm and so comfy

big thick

of being numerous
of being bursting
still stylistically whole 

you’re sick and I can’t make you better
I’m sick and sometimes we make each other feel ‘ok’
(intellectualism as absurdism!) the product or growth
resulting from such cultivation

Eating many parts of full sunlight in an easier world I would have
had no problem dissecting, how to

                                                        find close and get tender