The temperate mortuary.

The mortuary defrosted at dawn 

and not knowing how to break 

the glass too a alarm that would 

defuse a nuisance society 

where cocharoches survive the end of the world 

we might as well wrap In foil alongside the

untapped coconuts as the harlequin guards 

were called to play steel drum the news 

arrived of loved ones broken in two 

crosstied on reclaimed railed braces 

as warm as the winter 

In the Windswept 

Artillery thawing corpses of medusa

Folding and cradling lines of ero’s 

Blue spirit blown out onto the broadway 

fires reminders of drought Soaring 

in Fahrenheit goddess as hierarchy 

Hung for twenty eight visiting peaks

on the velvet Green numbers Spinning 

In the name of adolescent hibiscus 

Dreams of political contemporaries 

Art conspiracy with Saturn awaiting 

Your hand written calls in seaweed

Sent via a hoop jumping whale 

carrying cash to build lunar eclipse

Over carpool fishes foretold by 

Blanket stratocumulus whispers.