in a crooked house with crooked teeth, a bad heart and paper skin you watch the presence of specters with their vapor trails go ambling through the yard. sleep for hours, sleep for days and ignore the skittish infection rifling through your brain, bury old ideas in the dark and listen for the remote insect…

firebreather, shake that blood from your heart and if you hear of my approach let the others know the boy is coming home. we cling to some low hanging vine and i sobered up from the midday drunk before coming to watch you go, nestling in my adequate liver the same poison that will carry…