a closed fist to the jaw
frost on my face
bruises on my neck
i am
a monsoon
of chinook wind and irritation
splinter in the thumb of landlocked cities
i bring the ocean with me
worry not about probability
mess is resistance
we are snapped timing belts
bad luck is brewing
god is ur spit in my mouth
i am worshipping u while u worship false idols
scratching alberta bingo to bus to u
i am
the taped up cigarette in my jacket pocket
you are the university convenience store lighter catching my edge
ur art looks like what i used to carve into my skin
isnt that cool?
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