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.
