An angelic child looks on with chubby cheeks
cupped in its hands. A picture on a stationary box
fished out of the trash. They're everywhere.
The stained glass seraph hovers above the window too.
It doesn't say much. A wish was directed to it once
but denied. At least, that's what it seemed. One October,
two writers united under its pearly wings, but their flow
was halted. It was protec...

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It runs amok inside of my head.
It arrogantly prances as if I were dead.
It thumbs its nose whenever I try
to quell its intelligence-insulting lie.

It bleeds the eyes with the morning news.
It voids in me with its monstrous views.
It winds me up as a talking head,
then perturbs me at night when I go to bed.

Sliding along, biding our time,
or still soaking up the trumpeted slime,
...

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I feel, thus I am.

Rationalizing is only scar tissue
hardening like a sarcophagus
written with excuses.

I perceive without apology
my ownership of the basswood leaves--
their crunch, chlorophyll sliding
down my throat. The maple leaves of the northeast
jelling when chewed, speaking of the sun's
health-giving properties.

Began the morning with the thrill
of 2 tsp of apple cide...

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Death happens from obstructions to essential pathways.
Elimination is, therefore, more critical than assimilation.

Toxic collections can clog & crowd
out sun, oxygen-rich air, and pure water.

Xylem root tissues conduct water
in plants --like circulating conduits transporting hemoglobin
for animation of all animals, including humans.

Your existence depends upon open channels.

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