[A turtle jumped from the third story]

 

A turtle jumped from the third story

into a cannon like spider where he drove

as I played it back in my head.

The plan was amazing

even for most amazing people

to say like ticket coaches.

Positive letters like n's and t's,

know misery better than p's and b's.

It rains into the evening

as I play it back in my head.

I am washing my dreams

into stacks of cards

I keep in a cigarette box

behind the alley I see things move

and rehabilitate laughter

like shouting was impossible in the theater

so we moved into a sicker cat with better bones.

His lungs work hard every day against shadows.

I played it back in my head as the train stops,

you look for our cards

but our pictures weren't taken.

My soul wasn't empty;

I wanted bullpups to chew very small holes in me

that fancy things can live in.