Dilapidated

Dilapidated

You left the island on my lower back 

deserted.

Today my own

carnivore flagpole 

eats at me from the inside. 

The carousal begins.

It spins around

red orbits on fire. 

I know I am at the center of a dying planet.

My headband kisses the ground, 

while I imagine my scrotum exploding.

The walls of my body wrapped with small jelly beans,

our misfortune rejoicing. 

They urge me to this pressing urgency.

Convulsed,

out of ordinary words.