isolation tank

liquid love and
poured into a glass
a captive angel
like a stricken bird
but she was not
stroked by death
a bit of the penumbra
and all for a penny
in the yellow garden
with a sash
stains of purity
and now a grouse
and maybe a weasel
there’s a deer
in the bedroom and
under the floor
is the beating heart
of robert monroe
how i waste my life
in the piercing
of moments
i lay stiff
in the morning
a romantic
or justa
nouveau cadaver
in the cast of
a new century
with slippery skin of
the sun style sinew
with your beak
and flour fishbick
back to the forties
against the gangway
and flishbick
of any jane
or wick shmick

part two of
colonel wheezle’s
diary 8 june 1864

with an insult of
boots overhead
and suddenly
i’m a soldier
in god’s army
and fighting
for you babe
here the pop
and you’re out
out of the body
are you experienced?

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