boatpaper.
boatpaper.
by shannon baker
every
“why i am not someone else”
lifts restlessly unwanted ribs.
the rest are forced to listen.
this
lip of matter
troubles
an expected knot
of spine. fog reflection, greenish
was your father’s eye such is
certain.
bright, the budding fishfarm
neon bathtub in rebirth.
the physical world humiliates.
real people ignore themselves.
vacuum bags, aluminum,
rope hang
almost warbles.
bombs, but very
soft bombs.
also some hundred eggs of milk.
sentient outmotion,
overturned
upside&downlooking.
that is to say,
we sink.
eleemosynary @ May 9, 2008